Children of the Prophecy ENGLISH Version
by KendrixTermina
Summary: My basic plan with this is to take the good old time loop idea... and play it for horror, endless eight style. For once, Shinji is not the culprit - but he's the one who can fix it, leaving us with more or less the same problem. ENGLISH Version. Latest Chapter: 2.01: [SECOND CHILD HATES YOU] "Say, are you an idiot?" ...I don't think further excerpts are necessary.
1. 00: Da Capo

Hello, everyone, welcome to Kenny's newest fanfic that isn't so new at all… I'm glad that I finally got around to start translating it. Thanks everybody for taking your time to read this, and greetings to everyone who knows me from evageeks, animexx or elsewhere.

English is not my mother tongue, so if you speak German, I'd really recommend that you read the original version. Nonetheless, I'm gonna try my best – if you spot any language mistakes, don't hesitate to tell me.

My basic plan with this is to take the good old time loop idea... and play it for horror, endless eight style. For once, Shinji is not the culprit - but he's the one who can fix it, leaving us with more or less the same problem.

Or, more conceptually: Most of us know timeloop or "alternate outcome/branching timeline" fics, most are fun, catharsis-inducing and give you a chance to do some real interpretation work on the canon events. Also, you sort of have to do this if you want to write in the setting most of the show takes place (which will be your natural instinct after, well, watching the show and seeing that setting get fleshed out) in since it is more or less completely obliterated by the end. But a downside is that with many (certainly not all, and even then, I don't mean to be bitchy or elitist, again, I mostly enjoy time loops/alternates) of those fics, it either soon becomes apparent that the writer didn't exactly get the ending or has a very cynical interpretation of it and the arguably positive messages it's trying to convey, and/or b), which annoys be significantly more since the apocalypse interpretation can at least be seen as a necessary justification for the time travel: It all turns into one giant Shinji hate fest, one way or another, if they don't flat out replace him with a self-insert, a gary stu, or a vaguely similar-looking Gary Stu that is also a self-insert.

But if you're just complaining, you're part of the problem, right? So what I thought I'd do was(TM), I'll try to write my own timeloop fic/ the sort I'd like to read, try to make it original and see if other people would like to read that sort of fic, too!

That, and to create a long love letter to the entirity of this fascinating frachise that has changed so many lives, including mine.

Warning: This will partially follow the original story, but also Rebuild and later, the ideas of my own sick brain as well. Expect characters from the video games, a few OCs (only in minor roles, though, don't worry), Rebuild spoilers, and all the sort of nasty stuff the original series also has. As for the pairings, well, Shinji's entire harem shows up (I'm not letting a drama source as good as a love dodecahedron slip through my hands), but if you wanna know whom he'll ultimately end up with, you'll have to read this. No all-too disturbing crack pairings or OC pairings, though, so rest assured.

Oh, and another thing: If you think that Shinji, in either classic series or the Rebuild movies, is a) "a whiny gay pussy who should man up" or b) "A selfish, ingrateful toddler who only thinks of his own gratification, no better than his 2D-Disney-villain-father" or c) "A closet misantrope who secretly craves the obliteration of all life on earth from the dephts of his heart" (Yes, this exists), this fic probably isn't for you. Don't worry, there are plenty of other fics out there! How about "Shinji and Warhammer 40k" or something like that?

But anyway, I've babbled enough. You guys came for the story, didn't you? So okay, here it is:

* * *

><p>Oh I am growing tired<p>

Of allowing you to steal

Everything I have

You're making me feel

Like I was born to service you

But I am growing by the hour

You left us far behind

So we all discard our souls

And blaze through your skies

So unafraid to die

'Cause I was born to destroy you

And I am growing by the hour

And getting strong in every way

You led me on

_- Muse, 'Hate this and I'll love you'_

**Prologue: 00: [Da Capo]**

The music that could occasionally be heard from that spacious manor no longer surprised anyone;

Every day, if not always at the same time, someone in there would play a western Cello for about half an hour. The manor was large enough, being the property of a man who earned his living as a private teacher for the children of rich parents; The neighbors wouldn't have heard it unless they happened to be in the right corner of their Garden at the right time, and even then, only if they were listening closely enough.

The ones who were most likely to hear it were probably the few old grannies who would sometimes slowly cross the piece of sidewalk next to the during the moment in question, manor aided by their walking frames, although they would rarely think more of it than "Oh, it's the Cello again", assuming they had spent enough time in this small village that appeared to have been randomly thrown between the edgy mountains of japan to have heard the instrument before; The melodies of the string instrument could have been heard for many years, and if someone had ever bothered to take their time to listen in regular intervals, they would have noticed that the unseen musician had steadily improved.

Of course, nobody actually had the time for such a thing as the sound of classical music that seemed to be randomly coming from a teacher's house. "Perhaps some of these rich kids is getting Cello lessons" a few might think, supposing they had both knowledge of the manor's owner and the capacity of identifying the instrument as such, with the keywords being "a few"; Even in this isolated, insignificant town that had been barely grazed by the night apocalyptic consequences of the second impact, these hectic, uncertain times had left everyone busy with their own worries, barring them of any time to listen to mediocre cello music.

Now and then, someone would ask, a young child, a curious stranger.

"I…I don't know."

"That's where that private teacher lives, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I think it is."

"Oh, yes… One of my husband's friends has a friend who knows him. That's got to be that kid…"

"What kid? I didn't know he had any children."

"It's not his. I think he's the son of some filthy rich government official who left the kid in his care."

"Official? I thought he was a scientist…"

"Wasn't he in the military?"

"Why isn't that guy looking after his son himself, anyway? That's quite some neglectful father…"

"But… that boy is bound to have a mother. Why isn't _she_ taking care of him?"

"Because she can't. As far as I know, she's been dead for quite a while now."

"She died? How come?"

"I don't really know, but…"

"What?"

"There is… something like a crazy rumor. As the story goes, this so-called father used his own wife as a guinea pig."

"What? He murdered his wife and then abandoned his own child, on top of that? What a goddamn _bastard!_"

Sure enough, the populace hardly saw anything of that official-slash-scientist-slash-bastard's son, save for the cello music. His guardian, being a private teacher, tutored him at home, which was probably what he was paid for in the first place.

Even _if_ the residents had spotted him when he went to buy groceries or something like that, there was nothing to him that would make the eyes of the busy, hurried crowd cling to him or betray him as the mysterious cellist from the neighborhood.

He was a nondescript boy who walked around in simple, loose-fitting trousers and even simpler T-shirts, sometimes white, sometimes blue, nothing that stood out in particular. He wasn't exactly an especially impressive individual, not too tall, not too short, not fat, but not muscular either, with plain vanilla dark brown hair worn in a plain vanilla haircut.

The only thing about him that might have merited a glance were his eyes.

They presented themselves to the world in a deep, pure blue that was usually found in foreigners alone, the color the oceans had before second impact, when they still contained life of which we knew less than about the depths of outer space; blue like the skies, like that which was separated from all things earthly and material.

Nevertheless, no one ever noticed these eyes of his, for that would have required for the observer to take a closer look at his face, and as stated before, there wasn't much to him that could have served as motivation to do that.

Everyone was busy talking about the ongoing restoration of the oceans, the irresponsible spending of tax money, these strange serial murders in the new capital of Tokyo-3, while no one knew why it was supposed to become the capital at all since they already had Tokyo-2, or why ridiculous sums were spent to build fortifications over there, so no one even took notice of one mostly inconspicuous boy when he went to buy something, showed himself at public events (which he only did because his teacher told him) or just went to get the mail.

Getting the mail… that was exactly what he had been supposed to do on that fateful day. To get the mail and put it on the table so his teacher could read it later. It was his teacher who read the mail – _all _of it.

No one ever wrote the boy any letters, neither that scientist-father of his nor anyone else. How was anyone supposed to write to him, anyway, there was hardly anyone who even knew that he was here.

No one had ever written him a letter.

Until now.

Until the day when this, along with an infinite number of other things, changed forever… on the day where his life took a 180-degree turn.

The day on which he opened the mailbox and read a word that some part of him had always waited for, even when his mind had long since understood that it was futile.

This was the day where he found, addressed at none other than himself, the single word

"Come"

* * *

><p>(1) Hi, welcome to the annotations! Here, I will supply you with multiple trivia over the course of the story. I'm happy if anyone reads this garbage at all, but remember that reviews are gestures of LOVE and always very motivating<p>

(2) "Da Capo" is an instruction found on music sheets which means repeating the song from the beginning. Some times people use it as a compliment/cheer after watching a play in a theater - It's like saying the play is so good that they'd like to see it all over again.

(3) The Evangelion frachise is owned by Khara/Gainax, and I'm not earning a single Euro with this.

(4) The next, or more accurately, the first proper chapter will be called 01: [Cracks in a Wall] Don't worry, stuff will be significantly longer than this from now on.


	2. 01: Cracks In A Wall

**Act I: Exposition: [You are (not) alone]**

**01: [Cracks In A Wall]**

_Down on your knees, you'll be left behind_  
><em>This is the beginning<em>  
><em>Watch what you think, they can read your mind<em>  
><em>This is the beginning<em>  
><em>I got my mark, see it in my eyes<em>  
><em>This is the beginning<em>  
><em>Well, my reflection I don't recognize<em>  
><em>This is the beginning<em>

_We think we've climbed so high,_  
><em>On all the backs we've condemned<em>  
><em>We fave our consequence, <em>  
><em>This is the beginning of the end<em>

_ You wait your time, you'll be last in line_  
><em> This is the beginning<em>  
><em> Get out of the way, 'cause I'm getting mine<em>  
><em> This is the beginning<em>  
><em> God helps the ones that can help themselves<em>  
><em> It may be too late as far as I can tell<em>

_ We think we've come so far, _  
><em> On all the lies we depend<em>  
><em> We've seen our consequence<em>  
><em> This is the beginning of the end<em>

_-Nine inch Nails, 'The Beginning of the end'._

* * *

><p>It all started with a crack in a pane of glass.<p>

An inconsiderable, small line that couldn't have been noticed unless you spent a while glancing into the glass at just the right angle. The dim, red light of this place did not help either, much like glass panel's dimensions. Any person who might have entered the not exactly small hall was far more likely to direct their attention at the many strangecontraptions, laboratory tables and glass tubes that filled the room to bother inspecting the glass panel that formed it northern wall for cracks.

But just that it was hard to notice did not mean that the crack wasn't there; quite the opposite, there was more and more of it, since it offered the pressure of the yellowishly-reddish-orange liquid behind it a working point, thus growing steadily; It spread, slowly but continuously, like a bud opening itself. At first, one would have had to look away and come back after a while to as much as notice a change, but it didn't stop, and it kept happening faster and faster with every new crack and every time they branched and connected, until their expansion reached the point where it could have been heard if anyone had been present in this place at that time; there was a progressional crescendo of creaking and clangor as the glass inexorably cracked and burst.

No one was present to heart the noise, not to speak of counteracting its source; And yet, there were two small, pale hands ready to press themselves against the snowflake- or spider-web-like epicenter of the cracks to make the wall of glass shatter for good.

* * *

><p>"Protein walls four to seventeen, clear."<p>

"One to three are clear as well."

"Initializing MAGI self-diagnosis-subroutines in five, four, three, two…"

As one could effortlessly tell by the voices of the personnel and the typing noises produced by their owners, the main complex of the Central Dogma was brimming with buzzing activity; Strings of Numbers hurried across the large screen that had claimed almost an entire wall of the huge hall as its territory, and the various, multi-layered holographic images that appeared to be floating in front of it also appeared to be in plenty of motion; The bulk of the 'action', however, took place on the various platforms above and around the hardware of the supercomputers which ultimately administrated all of this enormous city.

Neo-Tokyo 3 – A monument of many things, first and foremost for humanity, be it for its fear, its progress or its allegedly indomitable will to live.

The proud heart piece of this bastion of technology, this steel-plated fortress, was the MAGI-System, an array of three biological supercomputers – the first, if no longer the only ones of their kind.

And atop the physical components of these machines, sat several platforms where, more or less ordered by rank by the altitude of their workplaces, the various employees of NERV could be found in their mostly beige-colored, tight-fitting uniforms, eagerly maltreating their keyboards, going about their work and, now and then, holding small conversations.

Now, a routine system check-up like this didn't demand for the presence of the Commander or even the department heads; The highest platform that was still occupied was the workspace of the three technicians Shigeru Aoba, Makoto Hyuuga and Maya Ibuki.

The latter, a young woman with a short haircut, had apparently just finished with something and was now leaning back a little in her chair, apparently somewhat exhausted.

"MAGI-Selfdiagnosis-checkup completed. No anomalies detected. All systems seem to be functioning perfectly fine."

"Good." Commented Aoba, a tall, long-haired man. "But don't forget that all defense-related systems must be checked twice."

"Checking, checking, checking…" repeated Hyuuga, a bespectacled male with large, dark eyes, as he initialized a level-two-diagnosis of the afore-mentioned parts by hitting a few buttons on his console. "Everything's gotta be checked double and triple, it's like that's all we ever do nowadays… Before the accident, we'd at least get to analyze some test data from unit zero from time to time, but now… "

With a sigh, Hyuuga turned back to his diagnosis program.

"Oh, please, don't even remind the accident…" asked Ibuki, seemingly feeling a little disturbed at the mere thought. "I still can't believe what happened there… The laboratory in question is still completely in ruins, our only pilot is still in intensive care, and the Commander is still wearing those thick bandages on his hands…"

"Well, at least some of us have something to do now… we've spent the last few months doing little but testing the equipment, and even the EVAs aren't doing much more than catching dust…" replied Hyuuga. "I wonder how much longer we'll have to wait for an actual deployment…"

"In your place, I'd be careful with my wishes, since they might come true pretty soon…" Aoba stated.

"How come…?" inquired Ibuki, sounding mildly uneasy.

"Well, they seem to have sent the head of the tactical operations department here after she had been stationed in Germany for years… As far as I know, she will be arriving tomorrow. Her Name is Katsuragi Misato."

"Katsuragi, hm…" Maya mused. "I think I've heard Dr. Akagi mention that name before…"

"Oh, so the two know each other?"

"Yes, I do. She's an old friend from my college Days."

Ibuki, much like Hyuuga, who hadn't expected such an answer to his question, quickly turned around as she heard her superior's voice behind herself, while Aoba also turned his head towards the thirty-year-old woman who had just stepped onto the platform.

If one had to describe Dr. Akagi's looks with a single word, it would have been "professional", especially when she appeared in her white lab coat with a notepand in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other like she did now.

Her hair was light blond and ended just above her shoulders, but her eyebrows revealed that this was not its natural color. Furthermore, she was wearing a black, tubular miniskirt and a light-blue top made from some glossy material closed with a zipper that was adorned with a large, ring-like ornament to make it easier to open. A single birthmark sat under one of her green eyes, emblazoning it.

"Good afternoon." She greeted, taking a sip out of her NERV-logo-enhanced cup. "How is it going…?"

"We just finished the level-two diagnosis." Reported Maya.

"Very Well. Let me see." After Maya had moved both herself and her chair aside, Dr. Akagi bent forward to enter a few short function commands into her console and leave the space free again after pressing the enter-button.

"So far, everything seems to be as it should. Continue with level three."

Just as the head of the technical department was about to take her leave to devote herself to some of the other numerous part of her broad spectrum of work, when she perceived a beeping noise from one of the consoles – it was the internal phone line.

As Hyuuga immediately picked up the phone, Dr. Akagi narrowed her eyes – There weren't any more messages to be expected today, at least none that would be relayed here, but apparently, something was happening, since her underling gave off a quite startled impression.

"Dr. Akagi…" he began after he had hung up the phone.

"There was an error prompt…"

"During the MAGI's checks?"

"No, it's coming from… Terminal Dogma, block four, section C…"

For Hyuuga, that was nothing more than the designation of a place beyond his security clearance; He had never been down there, but since he, like everybody in this institution, knew of Lillith and the self-destruction system, it wasn't a far leap to assume that whatever was down there had to be somehow important, thus explaining his visible perturbation;

Dr. Akagi, on the other hand, knew _exactly_ what was down there… and why it technically shouldn't be possible to get an error prompt from there. As for the objects that were kept in that laboratory, she could only say that she despised them. But that's all that room was: The place where some of them were kept. From time to time, she would experiment on one of these things or cut them apart, but most of the time, the majority of them did nothing but float through a huge tank.

Even if there were a multitude of utile uses planned for them in the future, right now, only one of these things served any sort of function, and that particular exemplar wasn't even down there.

Dr. Akagi couldn't imagine what sort of error might have occurred with these things, as they were, as mentioned before, merely being stored.

So, whatever was happening there was worrying her all the more… because she didn't have the faintest idea of what it could be.

"Maya, could you and the others please proceed without me?"

After receiving a few uncertain nods from her co-workers, the leader of project E immediately put herself into motion, emptied her cup in a single gulp, deposited it on a console and promptly departed. As little as she liked it, those things, weren't exactly unimportant for the commander's plans – much like herself, as she mentally added with a bitter smile which she only allowed herself when her colleagues could only have seen it if they had been capable of gazing through the back of her skull.

Hurriedly, she paced through the corridors of the NERV-Headquarters, on her way to the Elevator that should lead her to her destination.

On one of the lower levels, she left it in favor of a dimly lit, darkly-lined hallway; Next, she'd have to follow it to another, special elevator for authorized personnel only which could only be made to move with her security card, her fingerprints, her iris- and voice scan, or alternatively, with those of a similarity high-ranked NERV-employee.

But she didn't even come that far.

Just after she had left several of these dark corridors behind her and finally closed in on her destination, she was made to witness a noise which she could only describe as a spine-chilling scream.

Even with NERV being a military organization with its Lieutenants, Captains and Commanders, the scientist had never thought that she would ever actually pull the gun which she had only ever carried because the directives had demanded it out of her lab coat's pocket, not to speak of taking its safety off.

But she still did it – Fortunately, as she should later conclude after stepping onto the scene that awaited her beyond the corridor's next curve.

It was a sight capable of freezing even the hardy scientist into a pillar of salt: It almost bore a resemblance to some grotesque work of art, with all the red spots, sprinkles and splatters in the corners and edges of the hallway and the large, irregularly-shaped stains on the floor.

And the stech… the stink, the smell of Blood. She ought to be used to it after working with LCL for so many years, but in combination with the images that could be perceived within the cone of light flowing from the wide open elevator's doors, it did not fail to take its effect for once in a very long time.

On the floor, there was a man in a NERV-Uniform… without any head.

A co-worker of his could be found next to the left wall from the hips downwards, and from there upwards, next to the right wall, his midsection having been severed as smoothly as with a guillotine.

The fellow in the elevator had been completely reduced to bits and pieces, with part of his leg lying in the doorframe, thus keeping the elevator's doors from shutting.

And as if all of this hadn't been enough, there was a shivering, dark-haired NERV-employee cowering next to the right wall, aghast, staring at her superior.

"Why did you have to come here… Run, oh my god, RUN!"

Without waiting for the fake blonde's reaction, the thoroughly terrified young woman used her own gun to fire multiple bullets at something beyond the light cone from the open elevator doors – She never hit anything. It wasn't that she hadn't aimed well enough, oh no, nothing that simple: The bullets appeared to have… ricocheted? And what was with that flash of light?

When the young woman ultimately lost her nerves and, still firing, charged the mysterious _something _in the corner, Dr. Akagi was instantly able to tell what it was.

That pattern of concentric octagons, like an almost invisible Wall in the air…

An… AT-Field? There was something with an AT-Fiel in this room…?

An… Angel? In here?

The you woman kept shooting and shooting, but before Dr. Akagi got any chance to say anything to make her retreat, the arms of the dark-haired employee were already lying at her feet along with her pistol, leaving her with two madly-bleeding stumps and severed arteries, which apparently hadn't been enough; The woman's wild screaming was only ended by her decapitation, after which her body simply sunk to the ground, expanding the "panorama" with yet another pool of blood.

There had been that… light again, the AT-Field… An AT-Field… used as offensive weapon, like an ultimate knife… The being probably activated it in such a manner that it would materialize where it wanted to cut, completely severing what lie on its inside from its outside, thus cutting through anything on that edge…

Fascinating…

Akagi felt nausea rising within herself. Some part of her usually dominant logical mind that still happened to be functioning urged her to turn around and run for her life, but her knees were as warm butter and her feet were glued to the ground, held in place by utmost horror, but also by a certain curiosity, for whatever caused this massacre was now showing itself.

At first, something like a … child's foot stepped from the darkness, then, the entire thing.

The head of the technical department swallowed hard.

This… this was impossible. That which she was seeing right now simply could not be.

Without intricate preparation, these things weren't even stable enough to withstand contact with air without immediately beginning to disintegrate – so far, humanity had yet to become nature's equal in the discipline of keeping meat fresh.

This thing couldn't… be here, it absolutely shouldn't be in any condition to project an AT-Field, much less to use it intelligently…

It shouldn't even be able to move, not to speak of …escaping in any way.

It… it wasn't supposed to have a soul, damnit!

And yet, there it stood. An yet incomplete exemplar, whose outer form resembled a nine- to ten-year-old human female, with the head of a NERV-Employee in its hand, and a thin, inhuman smile on its lips. And it was directly looking at her.

Still in the process of realizing that the entity had been fixating her, she immediately turned around and ran for her life at a numbing speed that she wouldn't have thought herself capable of.

Somehow, she managed to pull herself past the next curve without dying, immediately smashing a panel of glass that was integrated into the wall with a yellow-black frame around it, pushing the red button beneath far down.

Infront of her eyes, an emergency hatch closed, sealing the corridor she had come from.

The scientist immediately let her gun sink into her lab coat's pocket to pull out her cellphone instead.

"Akagi here. Locate my mobile and send me section 2 ASAP… And put me through to the commander's office…"

* * *

><p>(1) I'm partially following after Rebuild here, where Misato and most the NERV-staff know about Lillith and a related self-destruct-mechanism. I'm doing it this way because I'd like to use certain scenes.<p>

(2) Of course, everything will be explained in due time, but as in the series, you'll have to wait until the later parts…

(3) Look forward to the next chapter: 02: [The Thing That Should Not Be]


	3. 02: The Thing That Should Not Be

**02: [The Thing That Should Not Be]**

* * *

><p>"How is that even possible?"<p>

"I don't know either, subcommander. That is precisely what I am trying to find out."

"Then do it fast." Ikari's deep voice ultimately interjected. "…It needs to be terminated at any cost. Once you are finished with that, I expect that you immediately dissect it and inspect the rest."

"Understood, Sir."

"And don't let any Information seep through. We will present the incident as the work of well-prepared terrorists."

The Silhouettes of the two men, along with that of the desk in their vicinity, were all that could be seen in the vast room that was mostly formed by large glass walls.

Roof and floor were covered in complicated patterns.

"Ikari…" began the elder of the two men who was standing next to his sitting colleague.

"How on earth does this fit into our scenario? This incident is too close… too close to the time of the prophecy…"

* * *

><p>When the emergency hatch opened again – an Interface panel that was half torn out of the wall explained why – the child found itself confronted with an entire corridor full of armed men.<p>

A few were surprised at the appearance of their targets, perhaps recognized familiar features in its face or wondered why they were facing a child, but as soon as the first of them began shooting, the rest of them followed suit.

There was something about the being's expression that seemed…off, not… quite right, that awakened the desire to shoot it into Swiss cheese.

The only things that actually got filled with holes, however, were the walls and the floor, perhaps even the ceiling; The thing succeeded in repelling all projectiles with its AT-Field.

It didn't twitch, it didn't budge, it failed to show the smallest sign of being scared by the gunfire, it just stood there and stared, without even blinking.

"Go on, Fire! Fire!"

"We…We don't have any ammunition left, chief…"

That was the moment in which the being resumed walking. It simply strode through the corridor, without even acknowledging the men's desperate tries to safe themselves by throwing their pistol or similar reckless moves.

They burst around it like balloons, leaving only smithereens in this world.

In a similar manner to the emergency hatch, elevator doors opened for it, the doors of an elevator which it had defaced with the blood of two ordinary NERV-employees. They shot and shot, but in the end, none of them remained.

A couple which seemed to have heard the evacuation order for this section too late stumbled across the corner.

The entity's leer widened.

* * *

><p>"All personnel is being advised to stay in their respective workplaces and evacuate the public areas as fast as possible. In addition to that, the following sections are no longer to be entered:…"<p>

"I-I told you! Something has to have happened… " Ibuki anxiously told her co-workers while looking at the ceiling as if she wanted to stare at the announcements that could be heard above their heads.

* * *

><p>"No, that's no good. We'll only end up wasting ammunition and personnel. The readings show that the AT-Field isn't active at all times. So, the thing only projects it when it consciously wants that. Try shooting it from behind or from the side while it's distracted. "<p>

Dr. Akagi, who had sought out a quiet spot for herself and her laptop, was phoning the security men from some dark corner of the HQ. "And I'd recommend that you neither miss nor let you be spotted. That's not the sort of enemy that will leave you any second chances."

She typed something while she listened to the person at the other end of the line.

"No. I'd prefer it if you sent me the Data from the surveillance systems. What is that thing doing?"

When the picture on her screen showed her the way which the being had taken so far, Dr. Akagi was perplexed.

The thing… didn't seem to be heading downwards.

"Of course. After all, it was down in Terminal Dogma to begin with. If it had displayed the behavioral patterns of an angel, all of us would no longer…"

She couldn't believe it.

"But what's it doing? It… It's moving _upwards. _But that way it's taking… those sections it's crossing… It's almost like it wants to…"

* * *

><p>And then, the door opened, and it stood directly before Fuyutsuki, marking the floor of the sheer endless-seeming office with its naked, blood-smeared feet, undeviatedly headed towards the two men.<p>

The naked, immature body wouldn't have amounted to more than a pale, flesh-collored streak if observed from afar, if not for the still wet hair clinging to its face, covering its head like a helmet.

The scent of LCL was deeply inwrought into its substance, intensified by the fresh splatters of blood.

Red sprinkles on white flesh – and the head of an unfortunate security staff member, whose eyes were still opened to their widest even though there was nothing but the whites to be seen in them, gripped at the hair by the entity's delicate-looking hands.

The tiny feet's improbably sure firm steps created a low, splatting noise, courtesy of the liquid sticking to them;

Technically, it ought to be unable to walk, regardless of its ability to aquire a mind or lack thereof:; when they had activated the last clone, they had to pump it full with a multitude of chemicals to make the untouched muscles usable, and even that would have been impossible if they hadn't stored the clones in a basin with the very source of life as their preservative agent; Under normal circumstances, unused muscles tended to deteriorate and regress to an absolute minimum.

But there it stood.

Not just standing, but walking towards them.

The thing that should not be.

Fuyutsuki instinctive backed off;

Unlike Ikari.

The commander just stood there, without the slightest change in his expression.

He displayed neither fear nor disgust, not for the blood, and neither for the severed head; After he had managed to get use to staring into an entire tank filled with such perversions on regular basis without feeling nausea, there was nothing left that could possibly unsettle him, not even the thought of having sold his own body to two certain ladies in exchange for their loyalty.

In the first place, it hadn't been the nature or the state of these objects that had initially affected him, but the fact that he had personally wrapped each and every of their skulls in his wife's face.

But he'd managed it. He'd managed to reply that Yui would have understood, every single time his subordinate had stated that she would have been horrified.

She would have done the same for him. She, too, would have endured the sight of these clones, sold her body, burned the earth and torn the sky asunder.

She would have done the same for him. Of that, he was completely certain.

He just _knew_ that she would have done the same for him.

Oh god, he _hoped _that she would have done the same for him.

Despite his subordinate's worried glances, Ikari stood in his place without batting an eyelash, and stared at the Perversion.

And the Perversion lifted the head it had left almost neglectfully lowered until now, and stared right back with its crimson eyes, twisting the corners of its mouth into some mutation of a smirk.

So, it actually seemed to possess intelligence, just as Dr. Akagi had said earlier.

"What do you want?"

Ikari's deep, coarse voice echoed through the room.

He was already well aware of the danger posed by the entity, but if it was actually intelligent, attempting to communicate with it might delay it long enough for the security to arrive; At very least, it might increase his chances of finding a suitable opportunity to shoot it stone dead.

And as a matter of fact, he succeeded: It did not kill him.

It answered, it communicated, defying the multitude of reasons why it should be far from being capable of such; not before receiving sufficient "programming" beforehand. Where on earth could it have gotten any concept of human communication, much less knowledge of their language?

Still, as impossible as it was, it spoke.

The thing that should not be spoke words that should not be:

{{I want _you_.}}

No matter how inconceivable it seemed that the thing was talking _at all, _or _what_ it was talking about, the single most astonishing thing was _how_ it talked.

It wasn't the first being to have stolen the gentle, ethereal voice of Ikari's wife, but each of its words seemed to be steeped in reverberance.

Not immediately, but relatively fast, he realized _why._

He heard the words that were coming from its mouth… but he could also hear it inside of his head, as some sort of resonance beyond the deepest layers of his self, where there hadn't been anything left but rot in a very long time now, as if it was something he knew very, very well, and also something that knew _him_ very well.

It was as if it could touch his innermost without having to penetrate his skin… a bad premonition scurried through his mind.

Could it be…?

The child made one more step forwards.

Their eyes met.

{{We meet at last… Man from beyond the glass…}}

Ikari could hear his subordinate breathe a silent "…What on earth…". This degree of consciousness was indeed worrying, especially with the thing possessing memories of events that had transpired before it had acquired this sudden intelligence.

Was this the result of a longer process?

Would… others follow? Given what he had intended to do with these things, the existence of this being had the potential to blow a torpedo through all of his plans, if not cost him his position…

So shortly before the promised time, before his only chance to see _her_ again…_ He would not. _

He would not allow this.

Ikaris hand was firmly gripping the fireacrm in his jacket's pocket.

{{I have come to show you my gratitude. Thank you.}}

Before Ikari had any chance to make sense of these words, the silence inside the office ripped to shreds by a deafening sound while its origin blew part of the glass wall behind him, but first and foremost the escaped test subject's head to the tiniest of smithereens, generously spraying Ikari with blood since he hadn't even put his arms up to cover his face.

He wasted no time with things such as staring into the air in shock, instead sending a scrutinizing glance between the blood splatters on his glasses, all the way down to the being.

It was only when he had made sure that it had stopped moving and had a steadily spreading blood stain beneath its crushed skull, that he turned in the direction from which the shot had come.

The one standing in front of him was none other than Dr. Akagi, atypically equipped with a large gun which she carried with the aid of a large strap that she wore on top of her lab coat – She'd been farsighted enough to use heavy, armor-piercing projectiles to make sure to eradicate the enemy on her first try.

"Looks like I saved your life." She stated, almost a little amused, before she quickly puller her phone from her pocket and flipped it open, again completely serious.

"It's me. Disruptive factor eliminated. Handle the "cleanup" as I detailed earlier. And send me a code blue quarantine vessel to the commander's office. "

After she had closed her communication device again, a few instants of silence followed, in which everyone involved stepped closer to the small body on the floor to inspect it closer.

In the end, Fuyutsuki was the first to ask the big question: "What do you think …was the cause?"

"That's what I hope to find out by analyzing the body…"

"Then, I want those tests carried out without delay." Ikari ordered. "But at first, I want you to check all remaining clones for anomalies and terminate all recently created specimens. That is going to cost us some time, but it is better than risking another incident like this one. "

"Understood." The woman confirmed. "Does the order to check all remaining clones extend to the currently active one?"

Ikari didn't get to reply to that question. Something else captured his attention.

At first, there was only a minute twitching that might have been lost to a less alert person, but at very least when the hair sprang forth, everyone present had clearly understood that the being at their feet wasn't as dead as they'd like it to be.

Of all sudden, the entity's hair seemed to have hit a sudden growth spurt; New, wet, light blue hair presented itself to the light.

And that wasn't to be the last transformation.

It goes without saying that Ikari immediately pulled his gun and fired, but this time, the being was prepared and effortlessly deflected the bullet with its AT-Field.

Watching the octagonal patterns fade again, none of the tree people in this room could stop the entity from rising again.

But it wasn't just standing up, it _changed_ as it did so.

The entire body appeared to be soft like half-molten butter, as if the arms could elongate themselves just by hanging down against gravity, as if the legs could first shrink and then stretch just because they moved from a crouched into a standing position.

Whatever was in this body appeared to be capable of shaping it to suit its wishes.

And not only that: The flesh on its chest and head appeared to be flowing as fell, smoothening and filling up its wounds, reforming the eye which the blond scientist's shot had blown away, using it to stare at them before the eyeball had been framed by flesh and made to share a center of focus with the other one.

When the being stood upright, it was fully regenerated and had taken the form of a seven- or eighteen year old young woman with long, blue hair.

One could still see trances of the original pageboy haircut, like the bangs hanging into the forehead or the strands adorning the cheeks, with those continuing much further downwards now.

The thing did not leave the scientists any chance to hold it back in any way, but immediately charged the hole which Dr. Akagi had created in the glass walls earlier.

* * *

><p>The following analysis yielded absolutely no results.<p>

None at all.

Calling their states normal wouldn't have been right, but no test results beyond the expected parameters could be found, neither in the First Child, whose bodily functions had been under meticulous surveillance, as well as constantly being recorded in the NERV hospital's intensive care section, nor in any other of the clones. Absolutely nothing had changed.

What hadn't been found either, however, was the escaped subject's corpse.

After the events that had transpired the possibility of the being having survived falling out of the window and rolling off a majority of the pyramid was a very real danger, even if the following lack of cut-up corpses seemed to disprove it.

Dr. Akagi's opinion on the matter was that it must have disintegrated before it could be found.

Since the total damage amounted to a broken glass tube and, what was much less of a problem at NERV than it would have been everywhere else, the lives of 23 employees, and none of the many components needed for the even greater multitude of plans, the commander and his deputy decided to just carry on with the scenario, and since the time of the prophecy hadn't come yet, they had little problems at selling their terrorist-attack cover-up story to their superiors – soon, everything seemed to be going its usual way.

It was only much later that those involved would learn what sort of shadow had just fallen on this world…

* * *

><p>"Then you have…already sent for him, Ikari?"<p>

"Yes. Captain Katsuragi is going to pick him up."

"I suppose that means…"

"Yes, Fuyutsuki, it won't be long now… It's time."

* * *

><p>"Whaaat?" the German girl in the yellow dress complained, placing her hands onto her hips.<p>

"Why did it have to happen in _Japan_ of all places? That's like, on the other side of the world! You're not being serious, are you, Kaji-san?"

"Unfortunately, I am." The unshaven young man answered, his slight grin suggesting that he was somewhat better informed than his young companion. "Looks like it's time."

"Well, if that's the case, then I fear that our chances of survival are really, really slim, with the only properly trained pilot on this planet being stuck _over here_ while some clueless amateurs are being sent out in unreliable prototypes!"

* * *

><p>"It it ti-ime, it is ti-ime…."<p>

The surprisingly blithe twin-tailed, glasses-wearing girl's strange sing-song blended into the wild mix of English and Russian words, flowing from the silent corner she was standing in.

* * *

><p>"Yes, I know, Mr. Lorenz. "stated the broadly smiling boy with his seemingly perpetually joy-drenched tenor. "It's time, isn't it? Somehow, the thought of returning to that place feels strange to me now…"<p>

He leant out of the window to savor the cool, nocturne air, before directing his gaze at the moon.

The silver orb's light fell over the completely flat heathlands of northern Germany that seemed to go on forever beyond the large mansion which had been built with the rusty-red bricks typical for this region.

Although, it probably didn't quite go on _that _far; The salty scent which the wind would occasionally blow over her betrayed that the Baltic sea wasn't all too far.

As a semi-enclosed body of water high on the northern hemisphere and thus far away from Antarctica, the contamination it had suffered compared to most others was relatively mild, tough it had still taken the massive filtration sites which had been erected somewhere between Denmark and Scandinavia (aided by many smaller institutions on the coasts of all adjacent countries) until the present day to return a fair part of it to its original blue color, at least close to the coasts. The water still didn't provide any suitable habitat for much more than plankton, microorganisms and very few particularly tough mussels and jellyfish; For the fish, some of which were still being preserved in special aquaria, ever to return, was still going to take quite a while.

"I think I am going to miss it…" the boy commented.

"I mean… the fragrance of the seashore."

* * *

><p>(1) This will be continued in the next chapter 03: [Angel attack], where we shall finally meet (or well, rejoin) our charming protagonist! From now on, the chapters will, save for a few exceptions, be considerably larger, so I ask for your patience. University tends to keep me quite busy. Also, before I can translate this, I need to actually write it and the ppl on the German site I originally published this on are also waiting for the next chapter...<p> 


	4. 03: Angel Attack

**03: [Angel Attack]**

* * *

><p><em>One Day, you see a strange little girl look at you<em>

_One Day, you see a strange little girl feeling blue_

_Tori Amos, 'Strange Little Girl'_

* * *

><p>Normally, one would picture a city as the domain of brisk activity.<p>

People created noise, and accordingly, where many people lived, corresponding quantities of noise were to be expected.

But not in this city.

There were no people left living here at all.

The tall buildings that had once stood upright piercing the sky now lay aslope and half-sunken within the deep-red waters; there wasn't a single window that hadn't been shattered.

The ruins, as well as parts of the ground, whenever a sufficiently low tide allowed them to be seen, were thoroughly covered in the red goop that had invariably replaced the once deeply blue ocean.

Everything was smeared with it, resembling the inside of a bloody wound, a comparison which could be unscrupulously extended to the pungent stench of that literal dead sea.

Since the garish-red, opaque surface didn't offer as much as a proper place to stand, the last time some lost soul had strayed far enough from their path to wind up in this desolate wasteland had been years ago.

Once, this had been the blooming capital city of Old Tokyo, the most populous city in the world, and now, it was completely deserted.

There was a certain depressing quality to it. Sure, an empty city was always a depressing sight, but one that also tended to convey a sense of danger. It was deathly silent, as if not even sound waves dared to go there… And yet there was a silent, naked figure with long, odd-colored hair standing on some half-destroyed building's rooftop, watching as something set the red water into motion.

Something _huge_.

Solid, bright red as a firefighter's car, the surface's lack of transparency didn't allow for as much as a blurry outline to be seen, but whatever it was, it existed, and its movements left a wake trailing it.

It proceeded like a juggernaut, on and on, unrelenting, sliding between the remains of the sunken city.

The being's trail formed one perfect, straight line, not once was it forced to turn to evade an obstacle, simply moving just past everything, sending its call into the world.

Of course, those calls were not to be compared with human communication – that was something this existence had no need of. Nor did it use such a simple carrier as noise, neither did it transfer words, information or any sort of knowledge.

The fourth messenger's voice was much closer to a domineering, overwhelming presence, resembling the low yet loud ringing of a bronze bell, a vibration, infecting the air, inviting resonance.

Closing on the shore as a pioneer tentatively treading on new land would have done, it presented the beings beyond it with the riddle of determining whether "Life form" would have been an appropriate appellation for the being that traveling through the depths, for it existed in a very different manner than any of the creatures beyond the water's surface.

It was as foreign to this world as this world was foreign to itself – It was a remnant of a world that could have been, that _should _have been, if only it hadn't been forestalled by the advent of _this_ world.

Left on its own, it strived to come and get the land that had been promised unto it.

Then again, it wasn't _all_ alone – The being on the rooftop could perceive the messenger's calls, even reach into its plane of existence, but it chose not to make itself known to the diving giant.

Its soul was hardly any different from those of the beings that had robbed it of its birthright, but unlike them, its soul's dominion wasn't limited to one simple, brittle form, as little as a creature with wings was bound to the ground beneath its feet.

It had cast off that form a long, long time ago.

So it came that the patterns of the walls that encompassed all of that could be summarized as "Sachiel, Angel of Water" reflected but one single proclamation, needing but one heavy, lithic word to express what the dwellers of the city would have needed six for:

…..I AM COMING …..TO GET YOU…

On the shore, where both the steady burbling of the waves and the unnerving, ever-present chirping of the cicadas announced the starting point of a very different world, the UN's tanks formed an orderly line, long since ready to fight, waiting for the unidentified high-energy object which had recently been spotted by satellite to reveal itself at last.

Alone the fact that _both_ sides were under the assumption that they would be fighting simple monsters was enough to show how little the nearing battle would have to do with virtues, ideals, honor, or even 'right' and 'wrong': It was a fight for stark survival, governed by the animalistic, egotistic drive towards self-preservation that was inherent in all forms of life.

Intelligent beings possessed the freedom to defy it, but whenever the choice was "a stranger's life or my own" most would find themselves lacking in noble motivations to keep their minds from placing itself in the service of their lower impulses.

Because there was no other function left to it.

Because there was no peaceful solution to be found, no practicable coexistence to be attained.

* * *

><p>One would be mistaken to think that the territory of silence had its borders next to those of the abandoned city – If the announcement reverberating from a multitude of speakers at every major concentration of <em>intact<em> buildings was to be believed, the entire region was in a state of emergency, and thus in the process of being evacuated.

The announcement and the wind were about the only things out here that seemed to be making any sort of sound. The only things in the entire metropolis.

No one was driving cars, no one was playing music, and no one was indulging in a multitude of mostly trivial conversations. All shops were closed, as were all blinds, each and every security lattice was in place, and occasionally, even barricaded doors and windows could be seen.

Of all sudden, the populace's unending thirst to sell each other about anything they could think of seemed to be fully quenched.

And that in a city this huge…

Empty cities _were_ a depressing sight.

Even the train station, usually a hectic place of coming and going, now bore serious resemblance to a Ghost town straight out of a clichéd western – The trains were exactly where they were supposed to be, but none of them was moving a single millimeter. The only advice the numerous displays could offer was that both every single incoming and all departing trains were canceled without exception.

Again, everything seemed completely deserted, which posed the question of "why".

Sure, the style of the writing on the various displays and advertising posters suggested that this city was located somewhere in Japan, where earthquakes, volcanic eruptions and the like were no rarity.

Except – The earth wasn't trembling. There were no streams of lava to be seen, no deluge, no blazing inferno, no thunderous tornado.

The afternoon sun drenched the station in an intense white as the tracks lay covered in complete silence.

Complete silence, except for the steadily repeating announcements, the chirping of the cicadas, and the hurried steps of a lone boy.

His hasty movements made it easy to see that this unexpected situation positively unnerved him; Again and again, he stopped to check his surroundings uneasily.

His unassuming, unimposing form would have betrayed his nervousness to any observer's first glance; He was carrying a large, plain brown bag, obediently wearing his school uniform even though nothing resembling a day in class was awaiting him here.

The uniform in question consisted on some unadorned trousers made of black fabric, and a loose-fitting, white, short-sleeved shirt which its owner had neatly tucked into the latter; underneath, part of his indigo undershirt could be glimpsed.

Even his orderly, yet mostly inconspicuous hairstyle didn't seem to have any real characteristics, almost as if he had asked his hairdresser to give him a cut which would kindly ask any potential observers very nicely to please, please ignore him.

Doubtlessly, no one would have spared him a glance if he hadn't been the only human being in this place – and so, the dark blue color of his eyes which was highly unusual for this particular patch of land would have gone unnoticed once again.

His posture alone was enough to tell that he really, really wanted to be just about anywhere else now; every little ever so little hair on the surface of his body showed his tension.

Of course, no one could blame a fourteen-year-old teenager for being nervous at the prospect of finding himself in some godforsaken place where a computer voice was unceasingly warning of some unidentified danger, but this was… more than just that.

In the hand that wasn't blocked by his bag's carrying strap, he held a piece of paper – no, a picture, which he had gripped on one of its corners with this Thumb and Index finger alone, afraid that he might damage it with the sweat on his fingers.

Once in a while, he would hold it properly to look up some of the writing on it as he wandered the train station.

It seemed like it was really deserted.

"She… she probably couldn't make it…" a high, boyish voice spoke, apparently addressing the air molecules in front of his nose.

Once again, he scanned the writing on the back of the photo. There was a complete description of the route he was supposed to take, complete with instructions about which trains to get on, which rails they would be arriving on and a phone number in case something should intervene with his arrival.

Originally, he hadn't been planning bother anyone with his probably stupid questions that would only be a nuisance anyway, especially not now where something really big appeared to have happened here, and he wasn't even really sure what he was doing here, but there it was, black on white: "Call in case of unforeseen occurrence."

There might as well be someone _waiting_ for his call right now.

Great. So he hadn't even met that woman who was supposed to pick him up, and he'd already made a bad impression.

He… he had to phone her.

The big question here however was how on earth he was supposed to do that.

As if the situation wasn't already bad enough, fate seemed to have mallicciously steppen on his fingers once again: He didn't have a mobile.

Sure, nowadays, just about _everyone_ seemed to have one, and his teacher had offered to buy him one often enough, but his answer had always been "No thanks."

He hadn't seen a reason to further inconvenience a person who had already gone through the trouble of looking after someone else's offspring, and even if he had, what would he use a phone for? It's not like there was ever anyone he could have called.

All he ever was was a nuisance… someone who was in the way, who always got _sent _away.

He probably should have stayed home. Probably, that woman was now searching for him, and he had once again caused someone needless trouble.

Since the train station's main building was completely barred, he ran right past it, accelerated by the omnipresent warnings, and set out to search for some sort of public telephone.

In a city as large as this one, there _had_ to be at least some – Or had they been foregone in the process of reconstruction since everybody had cellphones nowadays?

He didn't have the faintest idea what to do. There wasn't anyone he could ask for directions.

He seemed to be somewhere in the periphery of the city, where all sort of plant life crept up between the buildings and spread over them like a cancerous growth.

There were power lines, but that was the best he could say.

There weren't even tramway rails in the streets.

Or, less poetically: He was in the middle of nowhere.

But luckily, he then found out that in the 21st century, even the middle of nowhere was full of phones: Just a few mere meters away from his current position, there was small, green phone innocently hanging beneath a plastic covering which probably served to protect it from rain.

Without wasting any time, he quickly approached the long awaited piece of technology and hesitantly picked up the earpiece. But just as he was going to type in the number, he was met with yet another off-putting revelation:

Right out of the earpiece, which he still kept dejectedly looking at after finding that out, came another of these security messages.

"It's not working…" he stated, sighing, before bending down to pick up the bag he had deposited earlier, after which he proceeded to enumerate the details of his unfortunate situation:

"I knew I shouldn't have come… All the phone lines are down because of the state of emergency… and there's no public transport, either…"

Resigned, he shot a glance at the photo that his contact person had provided him for the sake of recognition. (Which conspicuously showed her in scant summer wardrobe, grinning wide and making a V-sigh at the camera, further decorated by a little text saying "Check this out!" and an arrow pointing at her cleavage. )

"It looks as if out "date" is called off then…" He took a look at his watch which only confirmed his suspicions. "I should probably look for a shelter…"

He would probably have proceeded to turn around and walked away to fight his tears in a corner of the next shelter, alone and abandoned, if something else hadn't captured his attention in this very moment.

He was just turning away from the phone when he saw her.

A girl about his own age, wearing some kind of school uniform.

She stood on the middle of the street, somewhat in the distance, straight as a line, looking in his direction for no reason in particular.

A swarm of white birds, scared away by some danger which the boy had still to find out about, set into flight with a loud fluttering of their wings, leaving the power mast they had previously sat on entirely empty.

Motivated by a sort of curiosity he would have been ashamed out if he'd had the time to consciously think about it, he chose to divert his attention back to that girl who seemed to be interested in him for some reason.

Only… the street was completely deserted.

The fourteen year-old didn't hide his bewilderment. When did she leave?

Or had she just been a figment of his imagination?

But whatever might have been the correct answer, the boy didn't get very much time to wonder about it, for that which had shooed away the birds that had distracted him from that… apparition didn't keep him waiting for long.

One horrible shockwave waltzed through the small, empty street , causing several blinds, power cables and sadly, the boy's eardrum to vibrate strongly.

As most people, he reacted to the sudden tremor by twitching and covering the any affected body parts – in this case, his ears – with his hands.

Nonetheless, after having overcome his initial shock, he found that the tree-covered hills at the city's borders had a much crazier spectacle waiting for his eyes and yes, his ears at well, whose next ordeal consisted of the buzzing of an entire squadron of combat helicopters, which appeared flying backwards out of the landscape's relief, closely followed by an humongous, stomping _thing. _

The sheer absurdity of it all was enough to leave the boy in a deeply disturbed state – And on top of that, the flying military now started bombarding the big, green monster …without success, of course.

A few rockets passed our unfortunate misadventurer far too close for his comfort – It was like in one of these second rate action movies: King-Kong, Godzilla, attack of the fifty-foot whatever, that sort of stuff.

He didn't recall taking any psychoactive drugs in the last twenty four hours, but it might as well have been different: The 'big green thing' for once wasn't a reptile, but it didn't seem much more believable: Its shape had a very distant similarity to a human's, the keyword being 'distant': It had discernible claws, but no real head, consisting mostly of a roughly humanoid _blob_ of some dark-green mass.

On its shoulders, it had rubber-like armor, furthermore, some three-layered, rubber-like elements could be found at its extremely angular hips, similar in texture to the thorn-like extensions sticking out of its elbows.

Even its exposed ribs had a stylized, artificial-ish appearance. Instead of protecting a heart or lungs, they covered something that looked like one of the red, ball-like Christmas tree ornaments except for being the size of a van, garnished by the collosal monster's 'face' which could be well mistaken for a mask if the creature didn't blink. Its only feature beyond its black, hole-like eyes was a vaguely avian beak.

The planes' extensive bombardement didn't seem to have caused it the tiniest scratch, nor did it seem to cost it any efforts to shoot one of them down by extending something conspicuously resembling a _lightsaber (?)_ from its hand (?), causing it to come crashing into the ground directly in front of where Shinji was standing, as if to prove that it, and by extension, the _thing_ that had torn it in two and blown it out of the sky, were a real, existing parts of his immediate surroundings.

He could have _touched_ it.

No, that was not quite the point… that plane, or any of the fragments it was falling apart into, had nearly crushed him! He's just barely missed being reduced to some ugly stain on the ground!

As much as the sight had already made him doubt his sanity, the line between "second rate action movie" and "bizzare piece of modern art" was only crossed when the beast actually _took flight_.

At first, the being was crowned by a ring of energy that a member of Judeo-Christian culture might have likened to a halo, next, the entire space around the thing, if strangely not the thing itself, was flooded with a golden radiance blowing everything away, and then… then it simply began floating, just like that.

And then, as if to eradicate the very last doubts in the boy's head, it had to pick the crashed plane in front of him out of all possible places where it could have landed.

Accompained by the noise level of ten rock concerts, the thing crushed the flying machine's remains with one flat, toeless foot, offering every bit of leftover kerosene inside of it one last chance to explode all at once.

Stricken by nothing less than unadulterated horror, he covered his face with his arms to shield it from the explosion's heat and shrapnel – he didn't need to, though.

At the last second, something that had brought loud braking noises with it blocked the path between his skin and both those none to pleasant things.

Nonetheless, the boy didn't dare to lower his arms and open his eyes before the wind, the light and the shockwave caused by the detonation had all subsided.

As it would seem, he owed his life to a small blue car and its driver, who quickly opened the door, apparently intending to take him with her.

Behind the vehicle's wheel sat an attractive, shapely built somewhat tanned woman in a black minidress that didn't hide much of her legs – not that she had any reason to hide them.

Even if the fact that she was casually smiling at him when they could be trampled to death by a big, green abomination at any moment was quite enough to evoke an association with the word "cool", she wore many little accessories that helped to strengthen that impression, some being her reddisch fingerless gloves, her round, golden earrings that resembled a work of modern art, the cross-shaped pendant she was wearing around her neck, the long, black hair that she wore with her bangs parted in the middle, or the sunglasses in the middle of her face – the face itself, on the other hand, gave him the distinct impression that he wasn't seeing it for the first time – She was his contact person!

"Sorry for being late!"

While the fourteen-year old quickly climbed into the car, forcefully closing the door behind him, the attack on the beast continued above the head, with the monster itself remaining relatively unimpressed. One might almost think that it had slightly turned its head and asked itself if it had been bitten by a mosquito.

In any case, it remained completely unaffected despite the near constant shelling, and continued on its path, not caring the slightest about the possibility that it might step on something, like, for example a little blue car with a fourteen-year old boy and a pretty, scantily clad woman inside of it.

That, however, was something which said beauty, who was a lot more competent that common stereotypes might lead one to believe, knew to counter by fumbling the shift lever much faster than her young companion's eyes could follow, hastily turning back to evade the abomination's foot, which had been showing the pavement little mercy so far by going into reverse and, last but not least, hurtling off into the distance by giving the gas pedal a heartfelt kick.

Behind them, the explosions never seemed to stop; the planes kept incessantly battling the skyscraper-sized entity, while the woman seemed driven to maximize the number of kilometers between herself and the aberration as fast as humanly possible.

Her 'guest' had used the meantime to put on his seatbelt – In the face of being on the run from a creature of giant fruit gum and the streets being mostly empty anyway, his companion could hardly be criticized for ignoring each and every speed limit and traffic rule, but if they _were_ going to drive into something, he'd like to be prepared.

Making the tires squeal in protest, the sunglass-woman didn't stop her vehicle until they were both already out in the green, where she proceeded to shove the boy entrusted to her aside in a manner that was pretty embarrassing for him to observe the green beast from a safe distance using binoculars.

Ostensively alarmed when she saw the planes pulling back, she shifted her position, inadvertently gifting the boy with the bittersweet privilege to get to know her breasts a little better.

However, she didn't leave him the time to blush: "They've got to be kidding… They're gonna use an N²! GET DOWN!"

Even if he didn't have the slightest clue what an 'N²' was supposed to be, the resident expert's worry proved to be enough to leave him frozen with shock, forcing her to grab him and ruggedly pull him down to their seats along with herself.

Nevertheless, the N² didn't need much time to speak for itself and teach him what exactly it was: The glistening light that fell through the windows was so intense that he could see its brightness through his eyelids, and it was promptly followed by a shockwave: At first, the car was only shaking, as if it had been exposed to strong winds, then, it was blown away from its place, and the boy found himself extremely grateful for his seatbelt: The car overturned, several hard, unpleasant impacts shook the inside of the vehicle whose driver had protectively clasped the boy as they were both thrown about the landscape.

* * *

><p>"Are you allright…?" the woman asked her young companion after they had managed to climb out of their lopsided car after freeing themselves from the… entanglement that had resulted from their bumpy landing.<p>

She had been… warm and soft, and he preferred _not_ to think about it any further right now.

"Yeah, it's… just that my mouth is full of sand…" the fourteen-year old answered truthfully.

Since most of their immediate surroundings had been reduced to a field of ash resembling the surface of the moon, that was a fairly encouraging damage report, even if their car now made for a rather… dented sight.

"So, let's get started! When I count three!"

The odd couple then immediately proceeded to return the car to a vertical position through their concerted effort.

After some tiring exercise, they ultimately succeeded in moving the battered jalopy, even if the somewhat jumpy 'gentleman' had his problems with the noise the vehicle created when it landed back on the ground.

"Thanks a lot!" The lady with the sunglasses finally said, contently placing her hands on her hips after finishing her work. "I don't think I would have managed without you."

Despite having been hit by the explosion of a bomb that certainly wasn't to be underestimated, her smile hadn't faded.

Motivated by her words, the circumstance that she had just saved his life several times in a row and her general kindness, he let himself get carried away to a small, tentative smile.

Her name. If he only knew her name. Hadn't it been on one of the papers he sent her?

"N-No, it's me who has to thank you, Katsuragi-san.

She just smiled and took off her glasses, revealing trustworthy-looking, friendly brown eyes.

"Just call me Misato." She requested. "It's nice to meet you, Ikari Shinji-kun."

"Y-Yeah…"

* * *

><p>After Misato had used both spare parts which she had "confiscated by the government's orders" (or, as Shinji called it, "stolen") and astronomic lengths of duct tape to patch the car back together, their journey quickly resumed.<p>

Tough Misato had tried to instigate some Small Talk along the way, she had, much to her annoyance, been forced to conclude that Shinji didn't exactly belong to the talkative half of the population.

The closer they came to their destination, the more the boy's thoughts appeared to circle around something completely unrelated to his revealingly clothed companion.

He gave off an increasingly nervous, uneasy air; at very least since they had driven into a tunnel secured by a special bar after which the entrance door to some sort of car-conveyor closed behind them, it had become painfully obvious that something was deeply troubling him, as much as he tried to conceal it.

The door that had closed behind them, thus leaving them with a dim, red lamp as their only source of light did manage to detract him from his brooding, if only because it created a connection between this place and the reason for his tenseness.

It wasn't really the door itself, even if it had substantially more in common with the setting of a James-Bond-Movie than with the entrance to a parking deck or any other equally mundane alternatives, but the symbol that had been lacquered on it in a bloody-red color.

It was half a leaf, perhaps maple, accompanied by some English slogan, quote or saying, but what really drawn his recognitions where the four large letters directly bordering on the leaf's image.

"Nerv…?" he read out loud with an inquiring tone. "Is that some sort of secret service?"

Everything in here really did look like something out of all these secret-agent-movies, the technology, the hidden elevators in innocent-looking tunnels, the ridiculously competent, barely clothed women… Naturally, all of that sounded totally ridiculous, but it still made significantly more sense than the ginormous monster that had just barely missed stepping on him.

Then again, its secrecy status wasn't the part of this place that _really_ held his interest…

Misato had leant back a bit since she didn't really have to drive at the moment.

"Let's say secret _organization_. We're part of the UN."

"Is that also the organization… my father is part of?"

"Yeah." The woman answered with a casual legerity that failed to do justice to the deep implications that her statement had for Shinji. All of this was just too _crazy_.

Again and Again, he wondered why he had even bothered to come here.

It would have been easier to name the things in this place that _didn't_ stir his fears.

"So, how much do you know about your father's work?" Misato asked with a friendliness and positivity that Shinji found to be grossly unfitting.

By now, the light had turned itself back on and the buzzing all around them signaled that the machines which were supposed to transport them were slowly coming to life.

Shinji evaded her eyes. "My teacher used to tell me… that my father's job is to save humanity…

Where ever we are going… am I going to… meet my father there?"

That mere thought was enough to make Shinji's face lose the visual equivalent of an octave in color over the course of an instant.

With an expression of absolute helplessness, he stared ahead distraughtly.

"Yeah, sure." Misato confirmed parenthetically as she checked the state of her make up in a small folding mirror.

Shinji grew even paler.

Like air bubbles in midnight-black coca cola, unpleasant memories kept inexorably pressing towards the surface.

"Father…"

Never would he forget that moment, that one scene that had burnt itself into the sulci and gyri of his brain as one of his first memories.

It had been exactly the kind of bag he was carrying now, not the small, green satchel he had put the light luggage in, but like the large handle back, except that it had been blue, carelessly dumped in front of his feet, as he, still a small, tiny pile of misery in a striped shirt that was far too large, just stood there, bawling his eyes out, waiting for his train, for that one ride in that sunlight-filled wagon, that had meant the end of the world to him.

When that huge, dark silhouette had turned away from him, the steps trailing off in the distance, he had gotten a pretty good idea of what it must feel like to be banished to hell, even though he could not recall what his "life" had been like before that.

"Oh yeah…" Misato began in an inquiring tone that once again pulled the teenager from his deliberations. "Did your father send you an ID?"

"Uh, yeah." Immediately, he began searching his bag for the paper in question, which had come along with the letter with the two words on it and Misato's card. Upon finding it, he handed it to her.

"Thanks." Misato replied, giving the document a scrutinizing look.

"Then go on and read this thoroughly."

But the boy's joy at getting handed a little booklet titled "Nerv – for your eyes only" was pretty understated, not to say nonexistent.

Strictly speaking, what was building up in his face was closer to thinly veiled, partially suppressed anger. "Nerv? Does that mean… that I'm going to have something to do with my father's _work_?"

As soon as he had finished speaking those words, Shinji had already begun to reprimant himself internally. Oh no, he thought to himself, he had once again allowed himself unrealistic expectations and foolish, childish hopes. He had known that he shouldn't have come.

"I… can't say I'm surprised… He would never write to me if he didn't need me for something…"

"Oh, I see…" Misato answered, examining her car's dented ceiling. "You don't really get along with your father, do you? I guess that's something we both have in common."

Shinji properly looked at the dissonantly good-humored woman for the first time since their conversation had begun, this time with great bewilderment, if not outright shock.

How could she say such a thing just like that, as if it didn't bother her at all?

When the dark walls were replaced bytransparent plating, Shinji was confronted with a completely different input which he had to process first: Beyond the glass, he was awaited by the shining facades of skyscrapers which seemed to be growing out of the ceiling like stalactites, shrouded in surreal, orange light.

"U-Unbelievable!"

Even someone as quiet and reserved as Shinji couldn't help but marvel at this sight: He had just found himself in a gigantic, subterranean cavity which just seemed to go on and on in every direction.

It was enormous; He hadn't seen a cavity this large in all of his life.

Of course it was different from having the sky spread out above him, which only served to make it even _more_ breathtaking.

The yellowish-orange, artificial sunlight coming from those giant lamps on the ceiling with its color resembling, but by no means equaling daylight made it seem like a whole, different world.

What struck Shinji as even more abstruse was that such an expanse could have entire lakes, trees and even buildings inside of it.

A cave was, in itself, something close to indoors, so putting futher buildings inside of it was simply too surreal.

The building in the approximate middle of this place, some sort of pyramid with an illuminated, inverse-pyramid shaped lake right next to it, didn't make it any better.

At tremendous speed, they were venturing deeper and deeper into this unreal-seeming establishment, always following a spiral-shaped path.

"A… real Geofront!" Shinji beamed, showing that he was, in spite of everything else, a male teenager that would react to "cool" stuff.

"Yes. " Misato confirmed. "This is our secret base, Nerv-Headquarters. The Fundament for our new Beginning."

* * *

><p>The strange pyramid was, as he soon found out, merely the tip of the iceberg; Nerv's actual headquarters was an enormous labyrinth-like complex reaching far into the depths of the earth.<p>

With emphasis on _labyrinth_.

The bizarre architecture itself was confusing, if impressive enough on its own.

Right now, Misato were riding one of these conveyor-belt-like moving paths often found in airports, on one of the many thin balks bridging a deep chasm separating two parts of the complex.

"Strange… I thought this was the right way at last…" Misato mused as the air flow set her hair in motion and sabotaged her efforts to make sense of her map.

"I really should start wearing trousers… Where on earth is Ritsuko when you need her? Sorry, it's just that I'm new here myself…"

"That certainly explains why I feel that we've been here before…" Shinji commented while trying to read the booklet with the information.

Misato reacted with a sigh, but didn't need all too long to regain her good mood: "But don't worry! After all, all systems were built to be used…"

* * *

><p>Shortly afterwards, Misato had grabbed the next communications facility, issued a "maximum priority" announcement and placed herself in front of the next best elevator with a somewhat uncertain-looking Shinji in tow, probably because it was right next to the panel which had revealed the cryptic designation of this part of the complex, which seemed to consist of completely arbitrary numbers and letter.<p>

Marginally later, Misato's grinning face on the reflective elevator doors was replaced by the aggravated visage of a woman whose fake blonde hair went just below her chin.

Aside from her stern look whose effect she couldn't possibly have topped with anything short of writing the words "not amused" across her forehead, the lady could be characterized by her purple, rhombus-shaped earrings, her green eyes and the mole she had beneath the left one.

If her glare was intended to make Misato uncomfortable, then its mission had been carried out successfully.

"H-hi, Ritsuko!" she greeted, somewhat intimidated.

The blonde wasted no time on trivialities, and immediately proceeded to step out of the elevator, which actually made the normally dauntless Misato back off as soon as the felt her colleague's haunting eyes on herself.

At this point, it should be mentioned that all she was wearing beneath her lab coat was a light blue swimsuit – apparently, the 'urgent announcement' had reached her ears in a particularly impractical moment, which was probably accountable for the "joyful reunion" which Shinji just witnessed.

The scientist immediately addressed the issue: "Captain Katsuragi. We don't have the time or the personnel for this."

After she had finished complaining, she diverted her glance at Shinji who had begun to feel somewhat forgotten, even if he did have the manual to keep himself busy.

"So he's the one?" She asked, now that her initial Anger had subsided.

"Yep." Misato replied. "…According to the Marduk-Institute's latest report, he's the Third Child."

"Hello. I'm the leading scientist on Project E, Dr. Akagi Ritsuko. It's nice to meet you."

Third What? Shinji didn't have the faintest idea what they were talking about. He was what?

Insecurely, he closed his booklet and cautiously eyes the fake blonde.

It was only then that he realized that she had just introduced herself, and that, until now, he had only 'returned' the courtesy by staring at her without displaying the slightest sign of manners.

"Y-Yeah, I'm… pleased, too…" he answered in a low voice.

Misato just sighed. "Looks like he takes after his father… He's got exactly the same gloomy eyes."

* * *

><p>A little later, Shinji had followed the two women onto an elevator-like platform, where he was still reading the instructions as it traveled along the transparent wall of what appeared to be some sort of large tank.<p>

All that could be seen inside was dim, red light which barely illuminated more than their silhouettes.

In the distance, further announcements could be heard instructing the personnel to assume 'battle stations'. But for what sort of battle? Against that Monster, perhaps?

If so, how did they have the time to go pick some kid up and, on top of that, have their… – what did she call herself? Leading scientist? – introduce herself to him. Whatever she was, it was hard to believe that she would have any time for the likes of him.

As the two conversed abut some technological things that not even the information in the booklet could help him understand, he began to ask himself more and more what he was even doing in this bizarre place.

"Do you heart that?"

"Yeah, seems like the situation is about to get serious."

"Now that we're at it, what's the status of unit one?"

"It has already been fitted with B-Equipment and is now being cooled."

"…Are you really going to activate it? As far as I know, there has never been a successful test before…"

"The odds for a successful activation are at 0, 000000001%. We also call it the nine-zero system."

"So you're saying it's not going to work?"

"My, my, I didn't say it was zero."

"Yeah, but that's just a theoretical chance… But apparently, "Sorry, that's impossible." is considered a lazy excuse here."

* * *

><p>Soon after, they had reached the top of the large chamber which turned out to be, as Shinji had correctly guessed, a tank filled with liquid.<p>

There was some large, green-violet thing with a striking resemblance to an Arm attached to the wall, but after all the crazy things he had seen today, he merely considered it a slightly odd choice for decoration.

Departing from the basin's edge, the journey continued via rubber boat, and later by climbing two stories' worth of stairs which then led into a metal-plated passageway up to the center of one large, dark hall.

At first, the light streaming from the open door allowed him to see at least a small streak of the metal floor, but as the entrance closed automatically, they were left in complete Darkness.

"Ikari Shinji-kun… We have something we want to show you."

"But… its pitch black…" Shinji commented, stating the obvious.

Acknowledging her newest coworker's complaint, Dr. Akagi produced some sort of device from her pocket – or at least, that's what he _thought _she did, since he couldn't exactly see it – and used it to turn on the light.

The next thing Shinji found right in front of his eyes made him wince in shock.

He stood directly in front of some humongous, metallic violet _something._

And gaped.

He felt everything around him starting to spin.

"A-a face…

A giant robot!"

Completely overwhelmed, a state that could be forgiven given that he had just been confronted with gigantic monsters, secret organizations, subterranean hideouts and now, _Mechas_ over the course of a few dozens of Minutes, he began wildly searching the booklet that he still hadn't managed to finish reading despite his efforts, but Dr. Akagi gestured to make him stop.

"You won't find anything about this in the manual."

"Heh…?" even more confused, Shinji turned towards the scientist, who swiftly continued with her explanation: "What you see before you now is a multi-purpose weapon in humanoid shape, a so called "Evangelion." This is EVA 01. It was built in strict secrecy, and may now be humanity's last chance."

"So this… is my father's work…?"

_"Exactly."_

* * *

><p>(1) Uff… translating this is much more work than I thought it would be… Tough that iosn't the only reason it took so long. I've been rather busy, real-life wise.<p>

(2) As you have seen, this follow episode one or the corresponding part in 1.X pretty closely. This is going to keep being the case for the next chapters, but the full scope of my evil plan shall become apparent soon enough.

(3) Look forward to the next Chapter, 04: [GARUDA], where the fated reunion between father and son will take place…


	5. 04: GARUDA

**04: [GARUDA]**

* * *

><p><em>Siehst du mich<em>

_Hörst du mich_

_Was hab ich dir getan_

_Warum zerstörst du mich_

_Fühlst du mich_

_Spürst du mich_

_Wenn du mich nicht mehr liebst_

_warum berührst du mich_

_Brauchst du mich_

_Sag glaubst du nicht_

_Dass es besser ist_

_du lebst dein leben ohne mich_

_Erkennst du mich_

_Verstehst du nicht_

_Warum bist du überhaupt noch hier_

_Was willst du noch von mir _

_[..]_

_Du weißt nicht was du willst_

_Du weißt nicht wo du stehst_

_weißt nicht woher du kommst_

_wohin du gehst_

_Du weißt nicht was dich treibt_

_was am Ende für dich bleibt_

_Warum bist du_

_ so blass_

_so kalt _

_so herzlos_

_Du weißt nicht was du tust_

_weißt nicht woran du glaubst_

_Sag mir wozu und ob_

_du mich noch brauchst_

_Wenn's einfach nicht mehr passt_

_Wenn du mich wirklich nur noch hasst_

_Warum bist du noch hier_

_Wofür_

_Was willst du noch von mir_

_Siehst du mich_

_Erkennst du mich_

_Ganz tief in meinem Herz_

_ist noch ein Platz für dich_

_Ich suche dich_

_Ich sehne mich_

_nach dem was ich geliebt hab_

_doch ich find es nicht_

_Augen auf_

_Wer sieht versteht_

_wie gnadenlos die Zeit vergeht_

_wie sich der Zeiger dreht_

_unentwegt_

_Er steht nie still_

_Viel zu lange_

_Viel zu spät_

_Sturm geerntet_

_Wind gesät_

_die Zeit vergeht_

_unentwegt_

_Sie steht nie still_

_-Megaherz,'5.März'._

* * *

><p>[:]<p>

_Do you see me?_

_Do you hear me?_

_What have I done to you,_

_Why are you destroying me?_

_Do you feel me?_

_Do you feel me?_

_If you don't love me anymore,_

_Why are you touching me?_

_Do you need me?_

_Don't you think_

_That it's better if you live your life without me?_

_Do you recognize me?_

_Don't you understand?_

_Why are you even still here?_

_What do you want from me?_

_[…]_

_You don't know what you want,_

_You don't know where you're standing,_

_You don't know where you come from and where you're going, _

_You don't know what drives you, what will be left for you in the end_

_Why are you _

_So pale,_

_So cold,_

_So heartless?_

_You don't know what you're doing_

_You don't know what you believe in_

_Tell me if you still need me and what for_

_If it just doesn't fit anymore,_

_If you really don't have anything but hate left for me,_

_Why are you still here?_

_What for?_

_What do you want from me?_

_Do you see me?_

_Do you recognize me?_

_Deep down in my heart, there's still a place for you_

_I'm searching for you_

_I long for_

_What I once loved, but I can't find it_

_Open your eyes,_

_Who can see can understand,_

_How merciless time goes by, _

_How the pointer rotates ceaselessly,_

_It never stands still_

_Far too long_

_Far too late_

_Reaped storm, _

_Sown wind, _

_Time goes by ceaselessly,_

_It never stands still_

_-Megaherz,'Fifth of March'_

* * *

><p><em>"Exactly."<em>

When he recognized the voice, Shinji's heart failed to beat for a few instants.

The mere sound of that deep, coarse voice was enough to send him into incontrollable shivers, made his knees grow weak and firmly convinced him that he was never to feel happiness ever again, if only for the brief moments in which he heard its sound.

Unable to produce as much as the ghost of a coherent thought, Shinji followed the long, sleek horn of the war machine before his eyes as if he were in a state of trance, up to the small pulpit on the ceiling.

And up there, high above him, as an eagle targeting the filthy, slithering serpents below, planning to devour them upon his descent, there he stood, glaring down at him, cold, pale and heartless, as much as Shinji tried to convince himself of something else.

The man in the pulpit was in a state of decay;

It wasn't his age that deserved the blame; In spite of being anything but far from the big fifty, time had been merciful on him: His face hardly showed any significant wrinkles, and his hair was still where it belonged, still possessing its original, dark brown color.

And yet, it was that very hair which betrayed him; The only reason he still cut it short was probably to pass its chaotic state for a modern hairstyle. In turn, his facial hair had been allowed to pullulate as it pleased, framing his face with a wild beard.

The face itself could be described as 'edgy' at best and as 'gaunt' at worst, and his eyes, dark blue as the sky during in the last breaths of a dying day, after the red of the evening sun and even the last glimmer of violet had disappeared past the horizon, minutes away from disappearing into blackness, where hidden behind inornate, cheap-looking sunglasses.

His uniform jacket, black as spilled ink save for some green ornaments, was carelessly slipped over him and not even zipped; beneath, he wore a bloody-red turtleneck regardless of the constantly estival temperatures that had become the norm after second impact.

His hands, covered in white gloves, were kept hidden within his pockets.

Every single detail of his powerful appearance compelled Shinji to feel the untamable wish to turn around, run away and shrink into a corner to cry, wither and die there, but his feet refused to carry him.

"It's been a long time." was the commander's dry greeting.

"F-Father…"

Unable to stand the icy glance any longer, Shinji averted his eyes.

The older Ikari's only comment was a low 'hmph', after which he addressed his son with both a thin smile or smirk and an order: "Move out."

"M-Move out?" Misato retorted in disbelief. "But Unit Zero is still in cryostasis!"

But as she thought about where exactly she was, and with whom, the issue quickly became much clearer to her: "You… You're not planning on using Unit 01, are you?"

"We don't have a choice." Akagi explained.

"B-but Rei isn't in any shape to do it! We don't have any pilots!"

The scientist was quick to contradict her: "One just arrived." She turned towards the still intimidated-looking boy. "Ikari Shiji?"

"Yes?"

"You will be the pilot."

"But… even Ayanami Rei needed seven months to synchronize herself with her EVA! He just arrived! How is that supposed to work?"

The boy still standing in between the women did indeed not appear to be coping with the news all too well.

"We just want him to try sitting in it. We're not expecting any more than that."

"But…!"

"At the moment, our main concern is to stop the angel. If there is a chance that he will be able to move the EVA on his first attempt, however slight it might be, then we at least have to try it!" Akadi demanded. "We have run out of other options. Do you understand that, captain Katsuragi?"

"You… You're probably right…" Misato conceded hesitantly, although she still didn't see very convinced. She didn't like this situation in the slightest, especially when she looked at that despondent boy over there.

It all reminded her far too much of things that she's prefer to forget, and she felt much more compelled to side with Shinji than what would have been reconcilable with her duty.

Shinji himself had spent all these long Minutes which Misato and Dr. Akagi had been arguing about that crazy situation which he found himself believing less and less of scratching together the valor to speak for himself.

All of this talk about angels and synchronization was besides the point. That wasn't what he had wanted to hear.

"Father… Why did you call me here…?"

"You have already been told." the dark silhouette before him answered, without the slightest shred of feeling.

Every single thing about this was just too ludicrous.

What did they thought he was, a magical girl?

Grotesque, that's what it was! Shinji no longer even tried to conceal his discontentment: "Then you seriously want me to climb into that thing and fight that monster I saw on the way here?"

"Yes." The commander answered, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to climb into absurd robots to fight creatures made of green fruit gum.

He… he couldn't be serious about this.

Shinji had finally reached his breaking point: He could no longer stop the warm, salty fluid from pooling beneath his eyes. "I won't! Why are you saying all this this of all sudden? I thought you didn't want me!"

"I called you because I needed you." Ikari answered, still not showing much of a reaction to his son's emotional state.

"And why did it have to be me?" Shinji asked despondently, hanging his head on all of the multiple screens the older Ikari was standing next to.

"Because no one else will do."

"But I won't, either!" Shinji countered, his voice quaking. As helpless as he felt, they might as well have pulled the ground out of underneath his feet. Why was his father so thoroughly convinced that he had any chance at doing anything remotely expedient with that huge robot thing?

"I have never seen or even heard of that thing in my life! What makes you think I can do this?"

"I'll explain it to you if you want me to."

But Shinji wasn't even really listening anymore. "No… that's enough! I can't! I just can't do it, okay?"

Unfortunately, the Commander seemed to be nearing the end of his tether as well: "Either you try it now, or you _leave_. "

The callousness that last word was spoken with earned Shinji the pitying looks of Misato and probably roughly half of the present technicians, but the being which Dr. Akagi has referred to as "the Angel" was notably less tactful: An impetuous succussion interrupted the admittedly rather fruitless father-son-talk.

"It found us." The former noted, understandably less than pleased.

But that had only been a warning shot: The next, significantly more powerful shockwave followed immediately.

The first damage reports began to arrive over the speakers.

"Shinji-kun, we're out of time." Ritsuko spoke, in one last effort to convince the (if understandably) uncooperative potential Pilot.

Beseeching, he turned to Misato, but she, too, urged him to climb into the metal monstrosity before his eyes.

Shinji hung his head. He felt like the entire World had turned against him now.

He couldn't take it… oh, why wouldn't it stop!

"This is ridiculous…" he kept protesting, his voice much weaker and more resigned than before.

"I... I didn't come for something like this…"

"Shinji-kun…" Misato bent down to look into his eyes, fixating them with her own still warm, but serious brown ones. "Then tell me, _what else_ did you come here for?"

He evaded her gaze.

The answer to this question was something he himself did not want to hear; He had already sufficiently understood how foolish and naïve he had been.

Regardless, Misato followed his eyes' elopement and kept talking at his face in further attempts to get through to him: "You mustn't run away, Shinji-kun. Neither from your father, nor from yourself…"

By now, it almost took an acrobatic feat to avoid her eyes. So it was all that psychobabble once again, the classic good advice… Did she really think that he hadn't already heard all this from his teacher?

How on earth was that related to the fact that he had never seen one of these robot things before?

None of it had ever been any help. What good was it to say that a glass was one millionth full if there were only a few lonely water molecules left in it?

"I know, I know! But that doesn't change that I still can't do this!"

After he his voice had fallen silent, EVA 01's cage was left with nothing but frosty quiet to fill itself.

Misato put herself back into an upright position.

For a few instants, the Commander's gaze abided on his son, but then he was forced to concede that there was no further sense in it.

He had never meant for Shinji to get involved with all of this anyway, or for him to be kept anywhere but far away from him.

But now that Rei had gotten injured in that accident, he was the only one who could pilot unit one… the only one who could fill the role of the "Third Child" mentioned in the prophecies, the only one of whom the older Ikari could be certain that EVA 01 was sure to accept him.

Oh, and just _how_ sure he was of that!

He couldn't do significantly more than trying to explain the situation – attempting to embellish what was awaiting his son would be futile anyway.

He did not seem to be able to as much as talk to Shinji without making him cry.

This wasn't like politics or a scientific experiment, where specific processes could be set in motion by certain actions.

He'd never understood this kind of things – If only Yui had been here, she would have been able to explain all of this much better. She had always found just the right thing to say, Yui with her gentle, ethereal voice and her warm, well-meaning words…

Somehow, Ikari had always known that it would come to this.

His plan was already firmly set in stone and left little space for further alterations; the moment that Shinji would have set foot in that entry plug, there would have been no turning back.

Still, the alternative he was now forced to resort to didn't please the last vestiges of these low, aleways reprehensive voices in the back of his head, whom he had never really listened to much more.

The reflective surface of the commander's glasses hid the expression in his eyes as he turned them towards the screen-covered wall next to him.

"Fuyutsuki."

The image of tall man in his late fifties appeared on one of the screens. In contrast to his superior, he kept his already greyed hair neatly combed back, wore his uniform in due form, and displayed an appropriate level of concern on his wrinkled face.

"What is it?"

"…We have to wake Rei."

"But… what about her state?"

"She isn't dead, is she?"

As much as Ikari appreciated the older man's skills, at times, he tended to be much to sentimental. Couldn't he see that he had already tried each and every possible alternative?

"As you will."

He didn't seem pleased about it, but the subcommander's face was soon replaced either way, its place being taken by a white screen with the words "Sound only" written in its center.

"Rei?"

"Yes, Sir?" a high, fragile voice answered.

"Your replacement is useless." He reported. "You know what that means."

"Yes, Sir."

For once, there was complete silence.

But not for long.

"Understood." Dr. Agaki confirmed to her superior, before beginning to give various orders over the Intercom, amongst them that EVA 01 be reconfigured to R-0-parameters and lisatened how some subordinate of hers who was probably sitting in some sort of command center right now relayed the state of various complicated technologic processes to her.

Even Misato was walking away, leaving Shinji just standing her after just one short glance back at him, just like his father had just left him, like so many others.

No one really seemed to take notice of the fact that he was still in the room.

The bustle just went on without him, everything had to get finished as quickly as possible, after all, they had some big green monster to defeat.

Shaken by his fear, his helplessness but also, most surprising to even himself, a good portion of anger, he hung his head even lower. He would have broken down in Tears if he hadn't been frightened of the sharp voice of the person who was bound to complain about the noise that would cause.

_"I knew that it was going to perfectly work without me…"_he silently thought to himself. _"I'm useless, after all… All I can do is bothering everyone around me…"_

Just as he was going to turn around and go look for some dark, lonesome corner where he wouldn't be in anyone's way, the entrance door was opened before he had any opportunity do so himself.

As it opened, the door revealed a doctor and two nurses, who were wheeling a metal hospital bed into the room, complete with pure-white bedding and an intravenous drip.

Being a nice guy at the bottom of his heart, Shinji was unable to maintain any other expression that one of commiseration and sympathy as the medical personnel pushed their patient past the spot he was standing on.

The very first impulse the sight of her stirred within him was the imperative drive to do something – _anything_ – to help her somehow.

The poor thing, who seemed to be about Shinji's age, was tightly packaged in bandages from head to toe – There were some around her head, combined with a piece of gauze held in place by various plasters which covered one of her eyes. Heaven knew if there even still _was_ anything remotely resembling an eye beneath it. And it didn't stop just there: The drip was lodged in her elbow crease, and just a little further down, more bandages began. The other elbow crease was buried deep beneath a thick plaster cast, as was, in fact, the majority of the arm in question, and even on her torso, more bandages could be spotted, although they were partially hidden beneath her clothing.

And why did she have to be so alarmingly pale on top of that? Why didn't she use her remaining eye for something other than staring into the air apathetically?

She looked so impossibly weak and fragile, as if the slightest touch or even a loud noise would be enough to make her burst into a thousand pieces.

The strange, skin-tight costume they had stuffed her into, as far as he could tell, some sort of full-body rubber suit with a few plastic elements on it, didn't make it any better: Not only did it leave little of her small, but firm and round breasts to the imagination, it was also white as bone, which, firstly, was quite demonstrative at illustrating just how minute the difference beneath the color of her skin and that of a sheet of paper was, and secondly, happened to be a fairly cold and sterile color which only served to fuel the protective instinct that Shinji never knew he had.

He had the strange feeling that he had seen her somewhere before, tough he couldn't say where nor when. It might have been a déjà vu, after all, he surely wouldn't forget it if he'd ever seen a girl with bluish-white hair and crimson eyes.

He wondered if she could be an albino, but weren't those supposed to have _blue_ eyes whose faint coloration occasionally allowed the blood vessels on the retina to shine through? The girl's eye color was far too intense for that, not fitting the rest of her otherwise faint, pale appearance.

Red and blue were, after all, the colors that lay the furthest apart in the visible spectrum, and the blue tint that was missing from her eyes had inexplicably found its way into her hair. Yes, he'd heard of people with blue-_black_ hair, but this was something else entirely…

The nurses detached the intravenous drip from its holder, presumably to give the girl some more freedom of movement.

Exuding heart wrenching sounds of anguish – her voice sounded soft, high and fragile as glass – the girl sat up, whimpering, her breathing labored as she forced tremendous exertion and even greater suffering onto her mangled body.

She tried to raise her arm to grab her beds metal frame next to the end where her head had just been to support herself while standing up, but she had to stop to gasp for air. Every ever so tiny movement appeared to be torture for her, and yet, she didn't even seem to be as much as considering lying down, no matter how self-evident her dire need for just that should have been for anyone with healthy eyes and ears.

Shinji's discomfort was obvious.

What was it his father just said? "Your replacement is useless?"

Did that mean that he'd been called here to… take that girl's place?

Impossible.

Where they… actually going to force that poor, fragile being… into that Robot….?

Then, another shockwave came.

Another of the Angel's shots, this time, substantially more successful.

The entire complex trembled; even the lamps on the ceiling shook dangerously.

Shinji was thrown to the ground and even that poor, severely injured girl slid off her bed before she had any time to react, expelling one breathless, pained scream from her colorless lips.

When the building came to a rest, her bed lay on the ground with all the associated medical utensils scattered around it.

The girl herself had also fallen to the ground – and she wasn't standing up.

She was just lying there, trembling, not even able to correct her strangely bent position which was hardly a surprise, considering that she was struggling for each and every shallow, labored breath, barely capable of drawing the smallest tidbits of air into her limp form and probably even limited in her capacity to process the little oxygen she could manage to inhale.

The sounds of her agony had grown considerably fainter.

What if her wounds had reopened or even been joined by new ones?

Wasn't anyone going to tend to her?

The older Ikari's face was twisted into a strange mixture of a cringe of worry and a "Just as planned."-grin as he watched his son rush to the injured girl's side without a moment's hesitation.

"Hey you, are you all right?"

Without even thinking about it, he gently took her into his Arms, as if he were handling a box of raw eggs. However, not even all of his diligence was enough to stop her from producing a sharp, pained sound as soon as he had gripped her, only to continue gasping for air immediately.

Cradling the poor girl who was trembling all over her body in his arms, he looked at the large, purple robot thing, followed by another glance at the girl.

They weren't seriously going to put her in there, were they?

Before he could think any further, Shinji felt something warm on his hand.

He brought it before his eyes, exclusively supporting the girl in white with the other.

It was blood.

Actual, bright-red blood.

It was the smell of human blood that was beginning to fill his Nose.

Aghast, he stared at his hand, and then, past it, straight at the girl.

She had been dragged out of her safe, clean hospital bed for the sole reason that _he_ had refused to get into this stupid robot… and now, she was probably still going to be cooped into it, bleeding and wheezing and all that, where even more wounds and therefore, certain death were waiting for her.

No. There was no way that he could allow this to happen and then keep calling himself a man afterwards. If this miserable, harried girl could muster the courage to challenge that abomination, then so could he.

If he only had that kind of willpower…

Unable to accept any more of his own cowardice, squeezed his eyes shut.

_I mustn't run away, I mustn't run away, I mustn't run away, I mustn't run away, Imustntrunaway…_

"I'll do it!" he proclaimed, holding his head upright for the first time since the beginning of this conversation. "I'll pilot that thing!"

* * *

><p>In the shape of numerous miniature waterfalls, the coolant was flushed out of the "Cage", as the technicians called the basin the giant robot was being kept in.<p>

Shinji wasn't quite sure if he remembered the meaning of that English word correctly –

It made little sense, didn't it? Wouldn't you call a depository for a Robot "garage" or "armory"?

Normally, only _living_ things like dogs or birds got put into cages, to prevent them from escaping.

How on earth was a robot supposed to run away?

Now, that the liquid was gradually receding, he got a proper idea of just _how_ enormous the steely colossus that was now a few meters beneath him, held in place by various contraptions and lock bolts, really was.

One part of the many constructions arranged around the Evangelion was the small platform Shinji was currently standing on – and its flooring and handrail made of simple steel grate failed to provide him with any feeling of safety.

Shinji gulped; He should probably avoid looking down, especially now where the liquid's surface was sinking further and further.

Directly in front of him, held in midair by further retaining brackets, was a long, torpedo-shaped object the size of a large bus which was marked by black letters spelling 'EVA-01' – judging by what he had been told, this was a so-called "Entry Plug", which more or less translated to "cockpit".

As far as he knew, he was supposed to climb in there, after which it would be automatically inserted into the robot, or "Evangelion" as its makers preferred to call it. Needless to say, Shinji didn't particularly enjoy the prospect of being propelled through absurd altitudes by some crane.

Still, it was already far too late to turn back now; the platform he was standing on had already been moved to where he was supposed to leave it, far away from the stairway he had used to enter it.

Of course, he could still have asked them to drive it back and let him go, but… no. Just no.

They wouldn't do that, not when they were in this kind of hurry. They would him into doing this one way or the other.

Or at least that was what he was trying to believe. They were forcing him, yes, he was being forced.

It had to be that way. He had to convince himself of that so that he couldn't possibly think of coping out now.

He had already traded his bags for a so called "Interface-Headset" that was technically too short to be an actual headset – it reminded him more of an hair circlet for girls, except that the thin, black Material probably wouldn't stand out much amongst his hair, unlike the triangular, white devices at its ends which would probably stick out of it like tiny horns.

Dr. Akagi had called them "nerve clips", which sounded a bit too painful for Shinji's comfort.

Reportedly, these should help him 'connect' with the robot. Connect? What did they think he was, an USB-Stick, perhaps?

At least the instructions for use were relatively simple: He was to put it on like a hairband, press the little buttons on the side, press it onto his head and let go.

That was allegedly all it took to put it on, and since some of the mostly indecipherable technobabble which could be heard all around them suggested that they were just about to insert this 'Entry Plug', he figured that it was probably about time for him to do just that.

As a matter of fact, they were indeed easy to put on, stayed in place and really didn't hurt or anything like that, but it still felt somewhat …strange to wear them, as much on his cranium as in his hands when he touched them carefully. They just didn't… belong there.

At least their horn-like design fit very well with the design of the Robot beneath him, even if it was merely equipped with _one_ decorative horn instead of two.

In this very Moment, the hatch to his new workplace opened, revealing… not much at all.

Just an instant before, he had been wondering how he could possibly manage all the buttons and levers that one would expect at the helm of such a complex robot (Shinji's reflexes had never been all too fast) but now, he was wondering what exactly he was supposed to do in there.

It was nothing but a large tube that was plated with yellowish metal on the inside.

Within, there was little more than a seat fixed on what looked like a skid, which seemed to be built to support half sitting, half laying position, but also allowed for the pilot to sit normally.

There was a pair of levers to "entertain" the hands, but not much more.

Somewhat uncertain, Shinji jumped into the capsule, taking a shot look at the darkness before him, down in the depths of the plug, before trying to work out where exactly he was supposed to put his legs.

Just when he had succeeded, the hatch closed above him.

Sure, this wasn't suited for people with claustrophobia, but it at least, the seat was actually pretty comfy, even though the buzzing of the crane and the other mechanisms outside did little to calm him… he kept imagining what would happen to him if this metal contraption he was sitting in was to tumble into the depths of the cage below.

Then, the Plug's movements came to an abrupt halt, and some sort of clicking noise could be heard from the outside, as if something had just clicked into place, followed by a fast, smooth, almost organic movement which was probably the Plug sliding into the EVA's innermost, and at last, another click as the hatch above it closed, accompanied by the Plug finally coming to a rest in its intended position.

By then, he was already beginning to sense it. Somehow, he was feeling… really strange.

Not exactly 'tingly', but a bit like he had just washed himself or put on new clothing. Sensitized, perceiving everything on a much more conscious level, but also… refreshed, not really hemmed in anymore.

At first, it was only a minute sensation, barely noticeable, especially when he was busy processing just what he had just agreed to.

The sensation of being constricted was just one of his many worries, so that he barely registered its disappearance. He was much more concerned with what the technicians were saying, which he was probably hearing over some sort of intercom system now that he was inside EVA 01.

"Begin contact."

He could not see the eyes of the purple behemoth lighting up, but he _did_ feel _something. _

"Entry Plug is being filled."

Surprised about that report and a sudden noise that followed it, he looked down, only to see that it was already in the process of submerging his hands and feet, 'it' being an orange-red liquid that appeared to be a bit thicker than water and was rapidly filling the capsule.

"H-Hey, what is this?"

If the process had been slower, the substance's particular stench or its pleasant temperature reminiscent of what the water inside a bath tub would ideally be like might have caught his attention, but right now; his only concern was to hold his breath as fast as he could before the fluid would cover his head.

"Don't worry." He heard Dr. Akagi's voice coming from the command center. "The LCL surrounding you will supply you with Oxygen, so just breathe it in.

That was much easier said than done, given that any human's basic instinct dictated them _not_ to let anything liquid enter their lungs.

On the other hand, the reflex to breathe was strong as well, so that Shinji couldn't help but release that swarm of air bubbles much earlier than he would have preferred, unwillingly trading it for a lungful of the sticky liquid around him. Nonetheless, those very same instincts instantly insisted on getting rid of that very substance, leaving him to fight his coughing- and gaging reflexes for a few very unpleasant moments. "I think I'm going to throw up…" he stated, looking bad enough to support his claim.

In the meantime, the technicians outside were busy removing more and more of these security restraints, working to get the EVA online as fast as they could.

More and more, he felt himself becoming aware of that… strange Sensation, as he heard some opaque technobabble concerning something called "contact phases.".

What happened next left him speechless for two reasons: Firstly, these was again that refreshing, pleasant feeling, but this time much stronger, more intense, as if something had opened and liberated him somehow.

It was, as if some sort of Gate had opened in the back of his mind, letting its contents flow into a vast expanse, but also… letting something flow into _him. _At first, it felt somewhat uncomfortable, but then he noticed that it wasn't anything bad that was reaching him there, surrounding his very being like a warm embrace…

Of course, he wasn't really given the time or the peace to consciously register or reflect on this alien sensation – not with that spectacle playing out in front of his eyes.

At first, the inside of the Plug simply lit up, which was more comforting than anything else, but that was just the beginning, it didn't stop there.

There was a light, coming from its far end, like a wave, and the next thing he knew was finding himself in a sheer endless, featureless red expanse.

The entire walls, save for his sleigh-like sitting arangements, were just gone.

Next, there was…a glistening, a spiral of black and white, a pattern inviting him to follow it to its radiant center.

Then there was even more light, even more red, and blue, in an almost honeycomb-like pattern…

This and much more rushed past his eyes in a matter of seconds and then… then his sight was clear.

Shinji blinked in disbelief.

He could… really see, as if there were some metal frames, and beyond them, not even glass or screens, but just… sight, as if he were seeing through the EVA's eyes.

All the talk coming from Dr. Akagi and her co-workers suggested that this meant… something good, or at least, they all sounded pleasantly surprised.

"Plug depth stable at 180, and synch ratio… at 41,3%!" a young female technician – Ibuki Maya, as he would later learn – remarkably impressed, as if she had just witnessed a miracle.

Her superior seemed to agree. "And he's not even wearing a plug suit!"

"The harmonix-values are all normal, everything's ready!"

"All right then!" he heard Misato say. "Prepare for launch!"

The last restraints holding the EVA, including entire walls started to move away, amongst them the small bridge Shinji had been standing on earlier. Last, but not least, the _entire thing_ started moving, the entire platform the EVA's were standing on moving towards the launch pad, past numerous platforms, contraptions and, of course, countless uniformed Nerv employees.

With a spark of determination on his features, Shinji witnessed the platform the EVA was on reaching the facilities that were probably intended to propel it to the surface.

A few bolts clicked into place, some hatches opened up, and then, everything was in place.

"All systems ready for launch." Dr. Akagi reported.

"Understood." Misato answered, turning towards her superior, who had returned to Central Dogma in the meantime, taking his place on a platform that stood somewhat higher than the one Misato, Dr. Akagi and their three industrious subordinates.

He sat there, bowed forward a little, supporting his elbows on the table and his face on his entwined fingers.

"May I give the order?"

"Of course." The Commander affirmed dryly. "As long as the Angels aren't defeated, none of us has a future."

But his subordinate, standing next to him on the very same platform, didn't seem to be able to shake off his doubts. "Ikari… are we doing the right thing?"

He didn't get any answer, but the thin smile that Ikari hid beneath his gloved hands said more than a thousand words. **  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"And Launch!"<p>

Whoever was responsible of pressing the button that started the EVA did his job swiftly, making the EVA shoot towards the surface immediately as its pilot was pressed into his seat by the g-forces.

Back on the surface, the angel kept moving through the city with its thundering steps, occasionally glancing around as if it were searching for something.

Originally, it had been intending to just walk past this huge street as it didn't hold any meaning to it, but then, it appeared to notice something and stopped, and for a good reason, as evidenced by EVA 01 surfacing on this very spot.

The neon green markings on its armor glowing in the dark made for an impressive spectacle as the two combatants finally faced each other amidst the skyscrapers of neo Tokyo-3.

"Are you ready, Shinji-kun?"

"Yeah…"

"Remove the last safeties! EVA 01, LIFT OFF!"

One last bolt next to the purple titan's feet unlocked, as did one close to its shoulders; The great war machine finally stood on its own feet.

"Shinji-kun, just imagine yourself walking." Dr. Akagi explained.

The late revelation that this thing was apparently thought-controlled explained this strange interface, but did little to alleviate Shinji's growing nervousness.

Agreeing to sit inside of this was one thing.

Actually using it to fight a monster was another.

It was all up to him now, and he had never done anything like that in his life…

"…Walking…"

EVA 01 actually, if a bit heavy-handedly, began to move, and it weren't just the legs that budged, either – there was also an accompanying motion of the arms.

Nonetheless, Shinji still failed to control the purple titan's full strength – His first, somewhat awkward step demolished a phone booth, amongst other things.

Regardless of that, the command center still filled itself with sounds of wonder.

"It works!" Dr. Akagi said, subsuming the many expressions of pleasant surprise.

Not that any of it served to calm Shinji – quite the opposite; he would have preferred it if they _wouldn't_ assume that he was any good at this.

"Walking…"

He placed the second foot far too close to the first one, shifted the giant's immense weight far too early, and was rewarded by falling first to his knees and then, flat on his face.

Wait a minute, _his_ face?

It was the EVA that had fallen, but somehow, Shinji was the one frantically clutching his face, trying to pry off a metal mask that simply wasn't there – all his fingers could find was cold sweat, and the amount increased substantially when he realized that he'd fallen directly before the feet of the monster he'd seen this afternoon.

In the meantime, the Angel had grown a new, mask like face with a slightly shorter "beak" even though the – notably battered – old one was still hanging besides it. It might owe that injury to the very same bomb that had introduced him to Misato's sizeable bust, who (Misato, not her bust) was now urging him to stand up. But that was much easier said than done.

He wasn't sure whether to blame it on the sheer shock of having _really felt _(and, in fact, still feeling) the pain of having tumbled to the ground, on the angel's remarkable speed or to admit the simple old panic that horrible, reality-defying thing evoked in him, but before he was remotely capable of producing a reaction, the angel had eyed him with what bizarrely resembled a suspecting glance, gripped his face as if it was some sort of doorknob, pulled him into the air and decided that it really, really disliked him.

A shot of pure, unadulterated horror shot through Shinji's veins as the thing appeared to stare _straight into his eyes._

…..PERVERSION…BLASPHEMY….

(?)

That state only lasted for a few seconds, after which the Angel gripped Shinji's Arm and decided to pull on his opponent like it was a rubber chicken.

"Calm down, Shinji-kun! That's not _your_ Arm!"

Right. And what the Angel had just gripped and lifted hadn't been _his_ face either. It was that of EVA 01.

But… this pain… this _pain_….just how was this possible? Was it because the Eva was thought-controlled? It was so horrible!

Shinji grabbed his own Arm and squeezed, but he couldn't make the pain stop, couldn't stop the Angel from pulling. There were several reports coming from the command center, but they hardly even got through to his conscious self anymore. The angel kept pulling and squeezing and-

KRACK.

The Evangelion's arm dangled downwards in an unnatural angle.

Shinji couldn't even scream.

Of course, his own bone was perfectly intact and directly under his nose, but at this point, he could hardly differentiate where he stopped and the Eva began. It was simply far too overwhelming for his weak and unprepared mind, all that flow, that noise, the pain, the borders of this enormous form that wasn't his but threatened to become his, and there wasn't a single thing he could do to stop this.

He couldn't stop the Angel as it lifted its enemy high into the air after having tired of it, loading some sort of energy weapon that was prepared in a way that involved a column of light on the beast's elbow.

The last thing the third Child got to see was a light building up between the creature's claws that held 'his' skull in their tight, deadly grip.

"Shinji-kun, escape!"

But the Angel didn't leave him any chance to.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

At point-blank range. Again and again. Straight into the face. Shinji kept frantically clutching his eye and the part of his skull that felt like it could burst apart at any moment… he could practically hear it crack – or was it that of Unit One?

He couldn't even think about it anymore, overcome so much pain, agony and suffering that he felt like he might just explode from the inside at any moment, tortured by a foreign object in parts of his skull that felt perfectly intact to his fingers – or had they just cracked open under the pressure from the Angel's steady bombardment?

With his feet hanging over the ground and his hands seemingly both hanging down uselessly and pressed to his skull, there wasn't anything he could do, and even if there were, the unending torment hardly left him any time to think.

If only someone would help him.

Oh, how he longed for someone to take him into their arms and tell him that everything was all right.

But such a person didn't exist. He was all alone in this thing and he knew all too well that no one was coming to save him.

The angel mercilessly continued its assault, and its efforts were rewarded: After many fruitless attempts, it had succeeded in piercing the skull on the EVA, its attack bursting through the other side, throwing the violet giant against a building.

Without resistance, the EVA instantly slumped down, motionless save for the fountain of blood spraying from both holes in the biological machine's head.

But even that didn't last forever, leaving the many instruments connected to the control center to pick up only one single thing as they scanned EVA 01: Complete silence.

* * *

><p>(1) "Garuda" is an eagle-like being from Hindu mythology. When someone gets dealt a severe defeat in any myths or legends, that's often likened to Garuda swooping down on snakes. The title was chosen for various reasons : a) That's also what the song was called which I was listening to while writing part of this, a really badass-sounding instrumental piece from a Game called "Devil Survivor". It should be available on YouTube. I haven't played the game, tough, it's my brother who introduced me to the music. b) Sachiel is vaguely bird-like, and he effortlessly trashes Shinji in this. c) Shinji probably feels like some scared little animal being targeted by a huge bird of prey whenever Gendo stares down at him like he does in the Cage scene.<p>

(2) Any further quotes/Songs that aren't English will, of course, have a translation beneath them as well.

(3) Look forward to the next chapter, 05: [Long Dream], for the resolution of that evil cliffhanger and a closer look at the world our (anti-)hero now lives in.


	6. 05: Long Dream

**05: [Long Dream]**

* * *

><p><em>Every day streets are crowded with people<em>

_Every night streets are jammed with these noises_

_Things are so strange, are they real or a dream?_

_Where am I now, trapped in city of illusion?_

_Feel the people, hear the voices_

_They are reaching out to catch you_

_Feel the rhythms, hear the noises_

_You are beating all the visions_

_Is it angels, is it devils_

_Whispering in my ears?_

_Is it emotions, is it illusions?_

_I need to be with you_

_Every day noises are killing these people_

_Every night noises are waiting for me, but_

_Don't run away, we've got no time left to fear_

_Where are you now, still it's showing me illusions_

_Feel the people, hear the voices_

_They are reaching out to catch you_

_Feel the rhythms, hear the noises_

_You are beating all the visions_

_In this long dream, can you find me?_

_Want you to you call my name_

_In this hazard, chance of survival_

_I need to be with you_

_Makiko Noda, 'The world ends with you (Long Dream)'_

* * *

><p>There was something warm ascending, a gentle blending, a soft, warm, pleasant place, a familiar scent, a simple feeling of security.<p>

It was mostly dark, but he could feel some light falling inside.

Somehow, it was as if he were sitting in that train again, the train to hell, the train were those who weren't good enough got sent to, those who had failed to behave properly, those who hadn't been useful… It was, as if he were hearing his father's voice.

Yet paradoxically, nothing in this place seemed to be threatening, and even in the deepest recesses of his heart, he felt neither fear nor despair.

Quite on the contrary, being here felt soothing and agreeable, like floating in water, except that the liquid's warmth seemed to surround him entirely, a sensation of complete peace which he had only known from the most distant of his memories.

"So, have you made your decision?"

"Shinji for a boy, and Rei for a girl."

"Shinji, Rei… Shinji…"

She laughed. Apparently, she liked the name.

Who was she?

He didn't know.

But she was warm.

She was the very voice of the warmth surrounding him.

She was the glistening spots of light on a surface of water seen from below, the glistening on the warm sun on warm water.

A familiar warmth.

She was something familiar… yes, that's just it, something familiar…

He thought she was something like family.

"Shinji…"

"Ayanami." There was something cold and foreign breaking the flow, something repulsive, something that was horribly wrong. He could still feel that warmth, but now, it was more sloshing around or running in circles than it was flowing to him, he kept a part of her, but within himself, almost like a memory.

A memory of a time… before his time.

A memory of heaven.

"Shinji… Rei…"

There was a memory of things he didn't completely understand, but nonetheless, he was somehow starting to process it.

"Rei…? Ikari Rei?"

"No. Ayanami Rei."

And as if that word were some deadly insult, a sacrilege, as if he had just named all seven deadly sins by their Latin titles, he was abandoned by the light and the warmth, leaving him inside the cold darkness.

What was it, anyway, this… premonition?

"Rei!"

And there she came, that naked, distorted crime against nature, speeding towards him and piecing his very soul with its monstrous, empty eyes wide open.

* * *

><p>By the time Shinji had opened his eyes, he was no longer able to say what sort of fright had made him do so, only that he had been petrified with fear.<p>

That was to say, he… couldn't really remember.

But it would definitely make a lot of sense: Every cubic centimeter of his body felt like terror had torn just its way right through it, like his adrenaline levels had only just been given the chance to recede.

Moreover, both his heartbeat and his breathing also appeared to be in the process of calming down…

It was truly strange… somehow, he felt… naked, as if he had been pulled out of warm water or away from a soft blanket, but he couldn't recall any reason for him to be missing anything warm, for whatever place he'd ended up in was filled with the same heat that had become this world's daily torment ever since the day of second impact. On top of that, he was lying in a bed, in a room that was so flooded with what he first mistook for daylight, that all the colors around him appeared unnaturally faded and wan.

Indecisively, Shinji sat up.

The entire wall he was facing consisted of nothing but large windows. So that's where all that light was coming from.

It looked like…

This seemed to be… some sort of hospital. The nightgown he was wearing at the moment which was soft, clean, yet nonetheless devoid of any characteristic, familiar scents certainly supported that theory. Apparently, he'd been given a single room.

Perturbed, Shinji noticed that the liquid that was sticking to his forehead and attaching the backside of his nightgown to his body was in fact cold sweat.

And there was yet another alien sensation, perhaps a remnant of some sort of emotion, that clung to his skin even more than the sweat did.

Shinji let himself fall back on his pillow, just lying there, letting both the light and that strange afterglow take their effects.

This room even had a lamp, as if the architect had aimed for a deliberate overkill as far as illumination was concerned.

He'd never seen that sort of lamp with those neon tubes beneath a plastic covering – There had been no such lamp in his teacher's house, and he knew that better than anyone – over the years, he had memorized every ever so small detail on all ceilings in that mansion, most of all, the one in his own room.

But this relatively new, still immaculate white roughcast that didn't leave any features for the observer's eye to rest on was completely foreign to his eyes. It was…

"…An unknown ceiling…"

* * *

><p>Elsewhere, the much-needed cleanup efforts had already begun.<p>

The new morning's light fell on a large crater right in the middle of the city, not to speak of the buildings that were broken apart, slumped over like oversized domino bricks and the thick, red liquid that covered it all.

* * *

><p>"The advent of the fourth angel and its annihilation, the emergence of the long awaited Third Child, and the successful activation of EVA unit one… everything is developing as we have foreseen it."<p>

"…except for the enormous repair costs for unit one…"

"And those are still minor compared to the budget for the prototype which is still inactive!"

* * *

><p>"The salvage operation has been completed." Ibuki reported as she worked the buttons and levers on some kind of machine. Hers was only one of the many forms standing on yesterday's battlefield, almost indistinguishable from each other in their orange hazard suits.<p>

"EVA 01 is already in cage six – inspection and repair work will probably take several days…"

"What about the data recorder?" Another such orange-clad figure asked, scanning her surroundings with her binoculars.

"It's blank. There were no values measured at all."

"So, we don't even know _why _it went out of control. And that means…" Misato removed the binoculars to reveal an expression that was somewhere between worry and suspicion. "…that we can't vouch for its reliability without lying."

* * *

><p>"Minor malfunctions are acceptable; as long as you make sure that it is fit for battle when the fifth angel arrives."<p>

"Do not worry." Ikari assured them matter-of-factly, again supporting his face with his entwined fingers. "Unit one isn't our only weapon. In Germany, they have already begun the final test stage of unit two and its pilot."

"…but don't forget that the completion of unit three must also be advanced!"

"We have left both Nerv and the EVAs in your hands! Don't disappoint us!"

"I concur! The destructionof the angels is only a part of our covenant with Lillith! The human instrumentality project is to be treated with the highest priority. It is the focus of all our attention!"

"I am aware of that." The Commander confirmed. "Everything will follow SEELE's scenario."

* * *

><p>In the meantime, Misato and her co-workers had retreated beneath a small pavilion from where the entire data analysis and decontamination processes were being overseen.<p>

Its equipment included a TV in front of which Misato had placed herself, where she was now, after having removed her helmet, zapping through the channels – not that it did any good: There was the same thing being broadcasted on every single one of them.

"Scenario B-22." She commented as she provided herself some cool with a little fan. She had tied her hair up for today's inspection, presumably to keep it from blocking the rather small view in her helmet. "Seems like the public is being kept in the dark once again…"

Dr. Akagi, who was still working on the analysis of the samples she had taken, appeared to have a much more relaxed view of the issue: "At least the public relations department is happy that they finally got some work to do."

"Everyone seems to be fairly optimistic here, don't they…?"

"Well, the truth is all of us are afraid."

"Of course…"

* * *

><p>Beyond the fingers of his own hand and the thick glass it was touching, Shinji spotted some real, forest-covered hills. The brightness shining down from above was virtually indistinguishable from real daylight. The Third Child still had trouble believing just how large this entire cave had to be; He couldn't begin to fathom how they could possibly have built this.<p>

To be honest, he was surprised that it existed _at all_.

After all the crazy things he had witnessed here, he had been half expecting to wake up in his familiar little room with its familiar little ceiling if he just let himself sink back into his pillow, but so far, his waiting for that to occur had been in vain.

He was here, all alone, on his own, and all those crazy events had actually taken place.

He felt like he had been thrown into a completely foreign world, like a space station or something like that; everything was somehow filled to the brim with Science-Fiction-movie-like levels of advanced technology, if not just downright surreal like, underground trees for example.

He had been awake for a while and no one had come to check on him, so he had simply stood up and left his room, beyond which he had found a similarly light-filled hallway waiting for him.

He still felt a little… _washed out_, that strange sensation was still clinging to his skin, refused to let go and left him with a feeling of numbness that only seemed to support his conclusion that all of this was bound to be some sort of dream.

He could feel the cold metal of the window frame beneath his fingers, but it didn't feel real, the sensations were… delayed as if he'd only _been told_ that he was currently touching metal.

His sense of hearing appeared to be the least affected by that strange state; the chirping of the cicadas, the twittering of birds, it all reached him in all of its details, filling his head, feeling almost _too_ real.

Hence, the first outside stimulus to get a proper reaction out of him was the clamant rattling of an opening door. At first, he felt like he had been shaken awake, but as the source of the noise, a metal hospital bed, was being wheeled past him, subsequently instigating him to turn around, he still felt as if he were watching this from a long distance or through a screen, from where it wouldn't have any consequences for him to stop and stare shamelessly.

Fascinated, he observed the bed, the instruments and IVs attached to it, and most of all, the patient.

Still wrapped into her bandages as tightly as the day before, the porcelain girl slid through his field of vision without the slightest motion.

With her arms and head still partially shrouded in cast and gauze, she looked just as fragile, and even less real as the brightness within the corridor muted her sparse colors even more.

This time, her strange rubber clothing had been replaced by a white, loose-fitting nightgown much like the one currently covering his body. It only left vague hints to trace the shape of her breasts, but that left him the allure of the unknown, the knowledge that every tiny shifting of the fabric could reveal something new, just a little more of these tempting elevations that were currently left to fantasy, which had always been known to produce more pristine constructs than reality.

If the impossible red of her single, uncovered eye hadn't been pretty much the only color in his field of vision that hadn't had any intensity choked out of it by this place's light, he might have begun to wonder if she was a figment of his imagination, and in stark contrast to their first meeting, those very eyes were focusing on him and him alone.

Nonetheless, Shinji couldn't bring himself to do or say anything, and so he continued to just stand there, with all these overflowing doubts and questions still bubbling inside of him as she disappeared around the corner.

Shinji lowered his gaze.

The least he should have done was to say hello and ask for her name.

What had his father and Misato called her yesterday?

Rei? Ayanami Rei?

* * *

><p>In the meantime, Misato, Ibuki and Dr. Akagi had boarded a small plane that was supposed to bring them from their outpost in the blood-stained crater back to headquarters. By then, the three of them had all discarded their hazard suits in favor of their usual outfits.<p>

"So that's the result of an Angel's AT-Field collapsing upon its destruction…" the young technician commented, with notable hints of discomfort in her voice. "It looks like a Sea of blood… Almost like right after Second Impact… The very thought of it still makes me shiver…"

"Our EVA has defeated the Angel." Stated Misato, her eyes locked onto her cross-shaped pendant which she apparently hadn't put on yet. "And that means… that humanity might still have a sparkle of hope left."

"So you really think we have a Chance?"

"Well, hope is part of human existence, don't you think so as well?"

"Your optimism is consoling if nothing else… And by the way, the pilot those hopes rest on has just woken up." Dr Akagi reported, putting down the earpiece of the phone over which she had supplied her with that information.

Nearly instantly, Misato appeared to have forgotten her own musing and shifted into a straighter position that would allow her to look into her friend's face more comfortably.

"…How badly is he injured?"

"Physically? Not at all. But his memory is somewhat jumbled."

"Are you saying that he's suffered a mental contamination?"

"Nothing quite that dramatic." The blonde assured.

Misato just sighed and lent back in her seat, obviously relieved.

"Yeah, you're probably right… It's probably just that it all happened so fast…"

"It's hardly a surprise. His nervous system was put under some serious strain…"

"Don't you mean his soul?"

* * *

><p>After a while, Shinji was noticed by one of the nurses and brought before the physician who was currently on duty to be examined.<p>

Shinji had meekly complied and endured it all uncomplainingly.

He answered the medic's questions by nodding, shaking his head, or, when it couldn't be avoided, as little words as possible, and followed every instruction without protest.

The tests were quite thorough and very extensive: When they were done with him, there wasn't any ever so insignificant part of his body that hadn't been checked at least twice, supposedly as a mere precaution, since he was the first person to ever synchronize with an EVA without long preparations and months of training, not to mention the tremendous strain which being sent into a traumatic battle without any time to adapt and the 'unpredicted malfunctions' must have put on him – He was, after all, the only pilot that was currently available to this installation.

Ultimately, he was told that he hadn't incurred any permanent damage, and given back his clothes which had been washed and cleansed of the sticky liquid from within the entry plug in the meantime, after was, for some unfathomable reason, asked for his measurements and his favorite color.

"…blue..." was his apathetic answer.

After he had gotten dressed, he was led into the medical department's waiting room which thanks to some large, triangular windows was also drenched in light.

Those strange sensations had begun to fade, but he could still feel them, right beneath his skin.

Deeply perturbed, he stared at his arm.

Somehow he still couldn't believe that he wasn't injured in the slightest.

Still, he did cease his observation of his forearm when he heard the sound of nearing steps.

It was only when they had ceased that the boy chose to look up.

It was Misato.

"So, how are you?"

"I… I can't really say… the Doctor says I'm going to be fine, though."

"I've already been informed. That's good."

"…Misato-san?"

"…What is it?"

"…What's going to happen to me now, Misato-san?"

The woman could practically smell just how lost the boy had to be feeling, and she didn't like it one bit. Perhaps because those feelings of his were something she could relate to all too well.

"Well, I… I'm sorry to tell you that, but the thing is, that creature you fought… we call it an 'Angel'. And we have reason to think that more of them are going to attack." She explained with a serious expression. "…and since only very few people in the world have the ability to control an Evangelion…We're going to have to keep you here in Tokyo 3.

For the safety of us all."

"I see…"

Misato failed to hide her irritation. After his initial categorical refusal to get into the EVA and all the suffering he'd been put through inside of it… he just said yes?

It wasn't that she hadn't wanted him to – She certainly wanted the Angels destroyed for various reasons many of which were very much her own, personal motivations, and she had already thought up numerous arguments to persuade him to stay, but she had expected to need every single one of them and now, they had all remained unused.

She just couldn't make sense of the boy… any blind cripple would have been able to see how much he longed to be anywhere but here.

"So then let's go so you can move into your new home as soon as possible!" Misato offered in a fruitless attempt to brighten his mood, her enthusiasm not entirely geniuine.

Alas, he didn't seem to feel like being cheered up.

Nevertheless, he still followed her instructions and left alongside her, so that they soon found themselves waiting for one of the countless Elevators in Nerv HQ.

So far, Shinji had gotten the impression that you couldn't even take a trip to the bathroom in this building without riding at least three lifts.

However, his gratitude for the elevator's swift arrival lasted only as long as it took for its reddish doors to confess that it already harbored a passenger.

Before them stood the upright, broad-shouldered form of Ikari Gendo, without doubt, one brilliant politician, scientist and strategist, but as far as pedagogics were concerned, it was Misato who had some advice to offer to her superior. For example, it would really help if he wasn't staring at the boy like a senior citizen eying some newfangled apparatus.

At first, Misato thought that he might have come to get his son, but the longer the frosty silence between the two Ikaris lasted, the more she was convinced that whatever errand the older man had come here for was at best very peripherally related to Shinji.

The latter didn't do much except evading his father's gaze, thus letting the elevator doors close again without anybody getting inside it.

Misato didn't know what she was supposed to say – especially _because_ the whole situation felt so uncomfortably familiar to her.

Even as they reached the escalator, she maintained her distance to that boy who seemed so similar and, at the same time, so different from herself.

* * *

><p>"Oh, Commander Ikari, I wasn't expecting you!" The physician, a curly-haired young man, turned around in surprise. "If you came to see your son, I'm sorry to report that you just missed him, Sir."<p>

"There is no problem with that. If I had wished to see him, I would have called in advance." The Commander answered dryly as he carefully removed his white gloves, revealing the thin bandages he still wore beneath.

"Change this." Ikari ordered, holding his disfigured hands out to the medic.

The younger man swiftly donned a pair of disposable rubber gloves, went to collect a few utensils such as new bandages and a reddish salve and begun to change his superior's bandages under his vigilant eyes, handling him with a degree of care that one would use with the boss of one's boss' boss.

"It should be fully healed soon." He reported as he threw the old bandages into a bin reserved for such disposals. "Starting with next week, it will probably be enough if you just put that salve on once in a while. I fear that these scars are permanent, though. I don't think much can be done, but if you want, I'll recommend you some good plastic surgeon."

"That won't be necessary." Ikari stated in a businesslike fashion. "What's the status of the pilots?"

"I've already discharged your son. He wasn't injured, it's just that his nervous system needed to time to snap back to 'business as usual' after being put under such stress. It's probably just because he started out with such a high synch rate. I'd recommend to leave him be for today, but technically, he's fit to begin his training at any time."

"Very well. And what about Rei?"

"The worst is over. Today, we were able to transfer her from intensive care to a regular room. Her state has stabilized since yesterday, but… she really shouldn't have been standing up. Her injuries were severe… to the point that the broken bones are the least thing to worry about… You have seen for yourself how hot that entry plug was… Her plug suit protected her from external burns, but since she was _breathing_ the overheated LCL, she suffered numerous internal injuries… Her wounds were healing badly and slowly to begin with, and now, half of them have reopened. It doesn't help that she is a …special case."

"…There wasn't any other available pilot at the time. It was fortunate that sending her into battle could be avoided." The Commander stated matter-of-factly. "When can she be used?"

"Not for a while. It will probably take even _longer_ now… If there aren't any new complications, we will be discharging her in about twenty days, but it will take an entire month before she's back to full health. "

"I see. Keep Doctor Akagi informed about her state."

"Yes, Sir."

"…can I see her?"

The young physician reacted with slight irritation.

Until now, he'd gotten the impression that the Commander's visit here was of strictly professional nature. He hadn't even asked for his own son and his concern about the pilots only seemed to extend as far as their "usability", and now, he wanted to pay the First Child a visit?

Sure, the papers listed him as her guardian, but if he didn't even ask for his own flesh and blood….

Well, in any case, it didn't concern him and the Commander was waiting for an answer.

"Of course. She is right over here."

Ikari put his gloves back on, stepped into her hospital room and, contrary to the young physician's expectations, the usually notoriously busy Commander of NERV remained in there for several full minutes.

* * *

><p>(1) As you might have seen, I mostly used the Rebuild variant of the dialogue, tough I tried to insert "missing" bits from the original series. It suited my plan.<p>

(2) If you'd like to see how our lovely protagonist finds a place to stay (or the conclusion of the battle) stay tunes for Chapter 06:[Home Sweet Home]


	7. 06: Home Sweet Home

**06: [Home Sweet Home]**

* * *

><p><em>When there's nowhere else to run<em>

_Is there room for one more son?_

_One more son_

_If you can hold on_

_If you can hold on_

_Hold on_

_I want to stand up, I want to let go_

_You know, you know - no you don't, you don't_

_I want to shine on in the hearts of men_

_I want a meaning from the back of my broken hand_

_Another head aches, another heart breaks_

_I am so much older than I can take_

_And my affection, well it comes and goes_

_I need direction to perfection, no no no no_

_Help me out_

_Yeah, you know you got to help me out_

_Yeah, oh don't you put me on the backburner_

_You know you got to help me out_

_And when there's nowhere else to run_

_Is there room for one more son_

_These changes ain't changing me_

_The cold-hearted boy I used to be_

_Help me out_

_Yeah, you know you got to help me out_

_Yeah, oh don't you put me on the backburner_

_You know you got to help me out[_

_You're gonna bring yourself down_

_I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier_

_Help me out_

_Yeah, you know you got to help me out_

_Yeah, oh don't you put me on the backburner_

_You know you got to help me out[_

_You're gonna bring yourself down_

_You're gonna bring yourself down_

_Yeah, oh don't you put me on the backburner_

_You're gonna bring yourself down_

_Over and again, last call for sin_

_While everyone's lost, the battle is won_

_With all these things that I've done_

_All these things that I've done_

_If you can hold on_

_If you can hold on_

_The Killers, 'All these Things that I've done'_

* * *

><p>"Is it really okay for them to live apart?"<p>

"Most certainly. For Commander Ikari and his son, it's the most normal thing in the world to be separate from each other."

"…and living together would feel unnatural to them?"

* * *

><p>"What…? All alone?"<p>

"Exactly. His new room will be here, in block six. Our colleagues from security should be arriving shortly to escort him there. Do you have any further questions?"

"No, I don't."

Once again, there wasn't a single complain where there should have been dozens.

"Are you sure about that, Shinji-kun?"

The fourteen year old just stood there, regarding her with a broken smile and speaking with almost unsettling nonchalance: "It's all right. I don't mind being alone. After all, I've always been alone until now."

That was enough. She couldn't and wouldn't accept this any longer.

* * *

><p>Misato had hoped to find the Commander in his office – In truth, she spent a few minutes waiting in that gigantic, empty room for the arrival of its owner.<p>

The drawings on ceiling and flooring were enough to keep her eyes busy for a while, but Misato still reached the conclusion that the interior designer they'd employed when they built this place must've been utterly clueless – the desk was practically standing in the middle of a huge void. Putting a few potted plants around it certainly wouldn't have done any harm.

But what she had planned to discuss with the commander when he ultimately returned from where ever he had been was not his taste in furniture – She would be damned if she allowed herself to act the tiniest bit less than professional in this sort of situation.

"…Captain Katsuragi?" Her employer asked as soon as he had stepped through the doorframe. "I have been told that you have requested an urgent meeting. So tell me, what is so important that you couldn't wait for an appointment?"

"I have a request. One that concerns the only pilot we currently have. If I remember rightly, the Third Child is to be accommodated on his own."

"That is correct."

"Well, as head of the operations department, it is my responsibility to maximize the efficiency of the Evangelions, part of which is the operational readiness of the pilots, which is also what worries me, particularly in the case of the Third Child. Just getting him to cooperate with us at all took a great deal of persuasion. I am of course aware that he, as all the pilots, will be placed under constant surveillance, however, for the sake of monitoring him even more efficiently and to ensure his motivation, I would propose to assign him a supervisor. To avoid unnecessary security risks, I am prepared to take that role myself.

Therefore, I ask to be given custody of the Third Child with all associated duties and responsibilities for the duration of the angel threat."

Ikari's expression remained unchanging as he answered, not taking as much as a second to ponder her thoughts.

"Your proposition does indeed seem expedient. I allow it. You are dismissed."

Misato struggled to hide her surprise.

He actually agreed…?

Just like that?

Sure, she had come because she _wanted_ him to agree, but what sort of person would just hand over guardianship over their own child without a moment's hesitation, at that,to someone they barely knew from work?

Of course, she didn't know of the words that had gotten stuck in her superior's throat: "Do what I cannot do."

* * *

><p>"You WHAT?"<p>

"No, no, you got that right. Shinji-kun is going to be staying at my place from now on.

My apartment is big enough and his father has already agreed to it. – Don't worry, I'm not planning on taking his virginity."

The reaction to the last comment produced such ghastly noises on the other end of the line that Misato was forced to hold the phone as far from her ear as her arm's length allowed it to protect her eardrums.

"Some people just don't have a sense of humor…"

* * *

><p>Not long after this, Misato and her dented blue car were on their way through the tunnes leading to the surface. Shinji, who had allowed himself to be dragged along without comments, was next to her in the front seat, with a thick brown envelope containing his documents on his lap.<p>

He still looked a bit lost.

"So, tonight is party time, then!"

"Uhm… a party…?" he asked as if he was struggling to remember a foreign word for a vocabulary test.

"Of course! You're supposed to hold a welcome party when someone moves in with you."

* * *

><p>Part of the preparations for that allegedly indispensable party was a short stop at the local supermarket.<p>

Enthusiastically, Misato grabbed some instant food, packet soup, beverage cans, various nibbles and, perhaps the icing on the cage, multiple packages of one-way chopsticks.

Shinji meekly followed after her, and did as she said whenever she asked him to get something.

This was only a relatively small supermarket that probably earned most of its income with the immediate residents of the area. The shelves stood closely together and yet, the boy found a variety of products unseen in the small village shops next to his teacher's house.

These 'Dorritos' were imported, right…?

In any case, many little details, amongst them the cold light of the supermarket's neon tubes added much to his already strong feeling of being out of place.

He had come with this woman because he hadn't wanted to cause anyone any further trouble and because he hadn't seen a reason _not_ to follow her, but he didn't know if he really had any business being with her.

Was she doing this… because of him, or rather… to make sure that he'd be ready to willingly step into that metal abomination at any given moment?

Sooner or later, her way led them to the checkout, which, in turn, was in the proximity of the exit.

Since the shop was, as mentioned before, rather small, he could understand every single word of what these two women who were currently in the process of leaving this establishment were conversing about.

"So you're planning on moving away as well?"

"Yes, as quickly as possible. Who could have thought that this city could become a battlefield?"

"My husband says that at least the children and I should leave for a safer place."

"I've heard that only today, over a hundred people have left the city."

"That doesn't surprise me at all. This city might be a fortress, but these people from Nerv aren't exactly reliable…"

"Who are you telling that…"

Shinji tried his hardest not to look at the pair as they walked past him.

Yes, what exactly _was_ he doing here? Until now, he had been trying to convince himself that even if no one could possibly want him as a person, most people here wanted him as their champion. But not even that appeared to be true.

Why was he in this place if he wasn't even wanted here?

If no one had the slightest bit of faith in him?

However, Misato hadn't failed to hear that conversation, either.

She knew that it would always remain impossible to stop people from gossiping, heck, she could even understand where those two were coming from, but she would have still distinctly preferred it if they had just shut up.

It was just plain counterproductive for Shinji to be forced to hear such things after all he had been through. She had seen for herself just how much the boy had struggled with himself, so that what he was now most likely experiencing struck her as unspeakably ungrateful.

She had to do something about it.

* * *

><p>Before long, Misato's car was driving through the outskirts of the mountains that seemed to surround the city, somewhere close to the borders of Tokyo-3.<p>

There might have been a more direct way to her house, but there was something she absolutely had to do here. She owed it to the boy.

At first, she hadn't really thought about it that way because it was part of her job and as such, something she regarded from the bird's eye perspective, looking at the grand schemes and big pictures, but it was a fact that this boy had saved her very own life by contributing to the Angel's defeat, and she had yet to do anything to show her gratitude.

"I hope you don't mind a little detour." She asked her new ward, whose lap she's just used to deposit her bag of groceries.

"It depends…" he answered, hesitantly.

Misato smiled at him warmly. "I think you'll like it."

Said and done: Soon after, the much abused blue car was parked next to a small viewig platform which was equipped with a guardrail and one of these binocular-like things for tourists one could use by inserting some coins.

The complexes of Tokyo-3 lay outstretched before them, streets and tall buildings resplendent in the evening sun. It was quite gigantic a city, completely filling the valley it had been built in.

Given its size, there was surprisingly little ruckus being produced down there. Even the _cicadas_ seemed to make more noise than what was supposed the home of millions of people.

In addition, there were those huge, flat, seemingly empty platforms which only added to Shinji's irritation.

"The place looks completely deserted…" But Misato didn't seem particularly concerned about the criticisms her chosen destination had received, confidently checking her watch instead.

"Any moment now."

And she hadn't promised too much: Mere instants after she finished speaking, a shrill klaxon echoed through the city, so loud that it could still be heard up here.

What changed Shinji's somber expression into one of great wonder, however, was what happened next: All those conspicuous empty spots, all these metal plains suddenly opened up like doors or hatches, and out of them, they soon sprouted into the air like mushrooms: skyscrapers! Ginormous skyscrapers with all the cables and antennas they brought with them, dwarfing all the tall buildings Shinji had seen on his way here, as huge as those had already been.

Everything looked so gigantic, so overwhelming…

It was impossible… and yet, there they were, real, proper buildings shining in the sunlight.

"Terrific… The buildings are growing out of the ground!"

Misato just smiled at him in her typical, friendly way.

"Now you know why the city is called a fortress. This is Neo Tokyo 3, our city. And… the city _you_ saved."

Shinji didn't allow himself to indulge that sentiment for long but for the duration of about half a second, but for the first time in his life, he felt like he was right where he was supposed to be.

For most people, this would have been a reason to smile, a sign of betterment, but Shinji was the sort of person who didn't know to grasp happiness when it appeared before him.

Much like he would always keep skipping back to track 25 on his cassette player by the time the next song finished playing, he never could follow one successful step forward or the opening of a new path before him by taking the next step and taking the initiative.

He just didn't dare to believe that this moment was real.

* * *

><p>The next and last destination of their little tour was relatively unspectacular compared to the view of the fortress city: A flat in the upper stories of an apartment complex on the edge of the city.<p>

And yet, the reaction it had managed to evoke in Shinji was just as intense, even if said reaction was, by no means on of wonder, but rather more of a crippling awkwardness.

This here was… the private residence of Katsuragi Misato.

She had actually taken him home with her.

Although he had only just met her yesterday.

Knowing neither how to process nor how to cope with nearly everything he'd been exposed to over the past few days, he uncertainly followed her through the dark corridor.

At last, she used her keycard to open the door and release a ray of golden light into the darkness.

Shinji felt the tugs longing to escape from this gloom, into a place where some actual _living_ took place, the first _real_ place he had gotten to see today.

But…

This was yet another location he was foreign to.

"Hey! Looks your stuff has already been brought here!" she stated, her tone as bright as the light she simultaneously stepped into.

It was only natural for her to walk right inside – After all, she lived here.

"Yeah, looks like it. Actually, I just moved in here myself."

He hadn't really had the time to properly notice the multiple cardboard boxes that were waiting for him right next to be door, but he did see the light from within the apartment illuminating them.

She invited him with a smile: "Come on in!"

Sheepishly, Shinji clutched the grocery bag he was still carrying.

"B-But only if I'm… not a bother or anything…"

"Shinji-kun, this is your home now!" She declared in an almost scolding tone. "So drop all that square politeness!"

She… seemed to be serious.

Hesitantly, Shinji placed his feet beyond the automatic door's metal threshold and addressed his hostess, no, flat mate, with an awkward smile: "Uh, here I am."

"Welcome home!"

And the door closed behind him, shutting out the gloom of the night.

* * *

><p>"I must admit, it <em>is<em> as teensy bit untidy here, but I hope you don't mind!"

A teensy bit untidy? A _teensy bit_ untidy?

He certainly hadn't expected the home of the cool, professional Captain Katsuragi to look like _this_, not after he had seen her taking in someone else's kid, pester him with all sorts of advice and fearlessly blazing steadfastly through the streets because she had a job to do, giant monster or no giant monster.

Okay, his expectations of finding this supremely tidy and polished to shine might've been unrealistic, but it wasn't just that his impression hadn't been correct – He was faced with the diametrical opposite here: Wherever he looked, empty coffee cans, beer cans, bottles of liquor!

En masse! Mountains of them!

The table, covered in empty wrappings and dishes, even a pizza box, half-emptied packing cases between trash bags, piles of paper and articles of clothing, leaving something of value like files or duct tape to be seen here and there, without really standing out from the surrounding chaos.

Not even the floor was spared by the avalanches of filth, being, in places, completely sunken under them just like everything else.

"…She calls this… a teensy bit…?"

"Sorry!" could be heard from the room next door, to where the origin of this tohubohu had retreated to for the purpose of changing into something more comfortable.

"Just stuff the groceries in the fridge, okay?"

"A-Alright…"

Still somewhat perplexed, Shinji decided that it would be best to just follow her request. The apartment seemed too big for one person – There was a joint living- cooking- and dining are with an European-style table in it and a nice calendar on the wall (and, as mentioned before, lots of garbage), a spacious bathroom and what was probably Misato's room… and two other, completely unused rooms one of which was probably going to become his. At least, the place was rather commodious, which made it even more of a feat that Misato had managed to flood it all with junk.

But first, he should probably find the refrigerator, which he promptly did – It was huge, apparently, Nerv paid its employees well – but when he opened it, he couldn't help but gape at the contents.

"…Ice?"

"…Relishes?"

"…And gallons of beer? This can't possibly be _all_ she lives on…" he commented, peeking through a hole in the wall of beer cans, looking distinctly uneasy, if not borderline traumatized.

After a few minutes which he used to carry his boxes inside while she spent them fumbling with her microwave oven, he got a first-hand proof that she _did_ live on instant food alone.

The table was laid – with a colorful salmagundi of all possible and impossible kinds of instant food and every imaginable mutation of canned food.

And the creator of this grotesque masterpiece sat right in front of him, cheerfully slurping the contents of a beer can.

Somehow, he had imagine that she would be… distinctly cooler.

She was so …direct, and he didn't really know how to handle it.

After emptying the beer can in a single gulp, she emitted a high-pitched sound of ecstasy, accompanied by a lopsided grin and perhaps even a few tears of joy.

"Aaaah, moments like these make life worth living!"

And he thought the things he'd seen _yesterday_ were mad.

"Aren't you hungry? You haven't touched your food. Yeah, I know, it's only instant stuff, but believe me, it's really good!"

"I… It's just that… that I'm not used… to having a meal like that…"

It wasn't as much the meal itself as it was the stream of words that accompanied it, that cheerfulness of hers and everything else about her, for that matter, he felt… somewhat intimidated by it all…. Not that he was complaining or anything, after all, he didn't have any right to tell her how to act in her own house…

If only she were a little less… in his face with everything she did.

Alright, that was probably a stupid metaphor, but he really didn't know how-

As if she had just read his mind, Misato put down her beer can for added emphasis and bowed all the way forward over the table.

"Don't be so picky!"

Shinji was forced to back down to avoid her head, including the two strands of hair hanging down from her temples.

Her loud, semi-furious voice hadn't been the only thing to motivate him to withdraw – she was currently closer to kneeling on her chair than she was to sitting on it, which meant that she had come close… closer that anyone else had ever come, not to mention that her casual clothes, consisting of a top and some jeans-hot pants that looked like part of them had been ripped off to make them even shorter, were rather… revealing.

She was probably getting some very good look at the blush on his face, which was there in the first place because his view of the… feminine masses barely hidden beneath her top was just as good, since they were practically hanging into his face.

He could only wonder whether her buttocks were similarly partially visible at the other hand, but that only served to make it all worse.

Her slightly scary tone of voice was probably the main reason, though.

Shinji didn't dare to exhibit the slightest counter reaction, mumbled something close to "Sorry, that wasn't what I meant.", but any defense mechanisms were ultimately unneeded when the expression Misato's still uncomfortably close face changed into a smile.

"I get it. You're just not used to having company while you eat, are you?"

Oh boy, that lady was _really_ well-endowed.

"Y-yeah…"

After a while, Shinji emerged from below the table and listened as Misato explained a few formalities to him, all while she kept building towers of empty beer cans too occupy her hands. A few rounds of Rock-Paper-Scissors (which once again made Shinji wonder what he could have done to anger the goddess of fortune) later, she had made sure that the household chores were "fairly distributed".

"Allright, Shinji-kun, just don't forget that this is your home here, so feel free to use everything here at your leisure…" she ultimately summarized her explanation.

"Apart from myself, of course."

Somehow, Shinji didn't really get the joke of that statement, as much as she fidgeted with her index finger to accentuate it.

"Uh, yes, yes…" he answered, hoping that getting an answer would satisfy her.

Alas, it turned out to have pretty much the opposite effect:

"Hey! Won't you quit saying "Yes" to everything? You're a _man_ and not some gloomy doormat, aren't you?"

Yeah. She had climbed on the table yet again, this time, apparently driven by a burning desire to mess up Shinji's hair. Or to snap his neck and smash in his skull, it was hard to tell.

Now that he was thoroughly confused as to what it was that she wanted from him, he hesitantly offered an uncertain "…Yes?", only releasing himself from his odd-looking posture when she let go of him with a sigh.

"All right, I give up… I think I know the solution to our little problem: Go take a nice bath and just wash your worries away!"

Somehow, she managed half a jump of excitation despite being seated, somewhat resembling a five-year-old blowing out the candles on her birthday cake.

Again, she displayed her dreaded happy-happy-go-lucky index finger.

"A nice bath cleans both body and soul!"

Well, actually, his soul didn't really feel any cleaner by the time its owner found him somewhat self-consciously gazing at the underwear which Misato had hung up to dry in the small room next to the bathroom itself.

Most of it was downright salacious, with frills, lace, semitransparent parts and all sorts of "yummy" colors like deep blue, mysterious black and a rich dark red.

Until now, he'd never seen women's underwear up close except in shop windows and television ads, and much like Misato's "light" casual clothes and pretty much her entire behavior, it made him feel a little… overloaded.

It didn't necessarily take an EVA-battle to expose his nerves to much more stimuli than his puny little brain could process at a time. To escape the feelings of embarrassment this sight subjected him to, Shinji decided to hurry up and enter the bathroom – if only he had known that the next unpleasant surprise was already awaiting him there….

"AAAAHHH! M-Mi-Mi-Mi-Misato-san!" he called, panicked, hastily pulling the curtain between him and the living room aside.

The apartment's owner who had, in the meantime, made herself comfortable by sitting cross-legged on her chair as she occupied herself with yet another can of beer (She had to have built up _quite_ some tolerance over the years) just looked at him with her large, brown eyes, appearing a little puzzled.

"…What's the matter…?"

"There's an… an… an _animal_ in the bathroom!" he spluttered as the critter in question, some sort of big, black-and-white bird with a strange backpack and a couple of red feathers on its head nonchalantly waddled into the room.

"Ah, you mean _him_." Misato answered blithely, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for outlandish birds to be waddling through the homes of single women and opening a refrigerator's door by pressing a button. (So that's what the extra fridge was for)

To make it all even madder, the bird seemed to have an entire miniature apartment in there, including a TV and a little lamp.

After giving Shinji a look that seemed to be intending to say something among the lines of "C'mon, it's not that much of a big deal." the peculiar little animal withdrew to its habitat.

Shinji, who hadn't thought that anything could shock him after the events of the last two days, kept staring into the creature's direction, his expression bordering on the aftermath of a freshly-acquired trauma.

"I-I've never seen such a weird bird in my life!"

"They were quite common fifteen years ago." Misato explained without a care in the world. "He's a penguin, one of these mutated hot-springs-penguins, to be exact. He also lives here."

If Shinji had known that his sharply dressed flat mate was currently reading a newspaper, he probably would have snapped once and for all, but even as it was, he had come to the conclusion that this old anecdote about how pets would always bear some uncanny resemblance to their owners did have some truth to it.

So much for strange ducks.

In the meantime, Misato had picked up her beer can once again.

"But say, aren't you gonna… cover the front?"

At first, Shinji didn't quite get what she meant, but then, he was forced to realize that there was some little detail he had kind of overlooked when he had stormed right out of the bathroom: He was _stark naked_ and had probably been presenting the full frontal view to Misato for almost a minute.

Not that there was much to present: The youngest scion of the Ikari family tree still had a rather boyish, delicate-looking build, the amount of visible muscle mass being puny at best.

Hastily covering his "parts" with his hands, he did his best to toddle off as fast as he could, the color of his face bearing resemblance to a ripe tomato.

"Don't overdo the cheerful façade…" Misato thought to herself, averting her eyes as her previous hyperactivity revealed itself as a desperate attempts to reach out to the silent, inaccessible youngster.

"Unless you want him to be the one who sees through _you…"_

By then, Shinji had already relocated himself to the one place where naked people usually belonged: The bathroom.

There, he followed his favorite pastime of staring at the ceiling and brooding, this time in a large bathtub filled with warm water that had been tinted red by the bathing additive he'd put in.

The ceiling of Misato's bathroom had a simple, round lamp hanging from it without many further details to it.

So there he was now, in the bathroom of him new… superior's house.

It was as the world had begun to spin in another direction yesterday.

The eternally monotonous days of his life, the few familiar rooms he'd existed in, it all seemed to be infinitely far away now.

The only thing had had given this foreign world any sort of center or something for him to hold on to was this complete stranger…

"Misato Katsuragi…" he mumbled, lost in thought.

"She doesn't seem to be a bad person…"

Yes, she had been nice to him so far, but her attitude was just a bit too much for him.

Then again, it would've been easier to list the things in this place that weren't.

He had just allowed himself to be dragged along, and simply done what everyone else had asked of him – that tended to lower the odds that someone would get angry at him or that he himself would get into trouble, but actually, none of this had anything do to with him or what he wanted.

He'd never wanted to come here in the first place.

Misato might've told him that bathing was cleaning for both body and soul, but as far as he was concerned, he couldn't shake off the impression that the silence and solitude of the bathroom gave his darker thoughts the fertilizer they needed to bloom as they pleased, thoughts of the horrors of that battle and his father's rejection… or that injured girl that his trains of thought seemed to come back to over and over again.

There was something about her that just wouldn't let him go, some realization that was practically spitting itself onto his face, a sense of recognition that was always there like a slight overlap of another face over hers, a face whose owner he still couldn't name.

* * *

><p>"So, how is Rei? You visited her at the hospital today, didn't you?"<p>

With a clipboard and several documents in her hands, Dr. Ritsuko Akagi was standing a few steps behind commander Ikari in the ruins of a devastated control room, in front of shattered glass panes behind which the sparsely illuminated silhouette of a colossal giant could be glimpsed. Evoking the image of Gulliver as he was tied down by the Lilliputians, the colossal Cyclops was held by a multitude of restraints: The classic handcuffs were complimented by some sort of muzzle and, last but not least, the long, green cross-like structure sticking out of the titan's back.

"There is no problem." Ikari answered to his co-worker's question, his hands placed in his pockets and his gaze transfixed on the orange monster.

"The only thing that counts is that EVA 00 is reactivated as soon as possible. I'll get a permit from the committee immediately."

"And what about your son? He seems to be mentally unstable…" Dr. Akagi added, showing some worry after all.

"That won't be a problem. His state gives us an excellent justification to reactive Unit Zero."

"All right… Let's hope that Captain Katsuragi will have a positive influence in him…"

* * *

><p>"Ah, Ikari, there you are." Fuyutsuki commented, seemingly considering the few documents on his orderly desk something to be concerned about.<p>

"…did you speak with Akagi?"

"Yes. Everything will continue just as planned."

"I wouldn't call the possibility of an escaped test subject roaming the streets 'just as planned'. These reports about a possible series killer disconcert me. Do you think…?"

Ikari displayed no visible change of expression.

"The killing method fits, but the behavior pattern doesn't. The defective clone slaughtered almost every human it came across; this killer of yours seeks out his victims in their houses and operates with stealth. It's no surprise for such delinquents to exist in a society that only just rebuilt from a collapse never really recovered from. People like to blame scapegoats or search for preventable reasons to 'explain' such individuals, because they fear that just about any human has the capacity for such behavior. Their fear to admit the fragility of their existence leads them to create the delusion that there is a way to protect themselves… humans really are sad, sad creatures."

"But theoretically speaking, there's nothing to prove that it _isn't _our defective close, is there? We've already begun to enact our scenario… we can't risk any more unforeseen occurrences, Ikari."

"There won't be any. It can't affect our plan just by going on a killing spree in the city. If it _is_ the clone, we'll have it caught soon enough."

"Are you really sure about that, Ikari?

In any case, I've looked through the transfer requests. Since this installation is to be our main front, it's only natural that the bulk of our personnel is being transferred here, but these four files are all the relevant ones… even if the first two are pure formality. They're the official transfer requests for Inspector Kaji Ryoji and the Second Child."

"They're approved, of course. What about the others…?"

"First, we have a certain Mitsurugi Minoru who wants to be transferred here from Bethany Bay."

"Mitsurugi? The one who was involved with designing the Cocytus- containment systems? Wasn't he supposed to stay in Archeron? They do have Unit Five, but judging from the Data we have been given so far…"

"It's half under construction, I know. Mitsurugi lists "personal reasons" as the cause for his request… he has technically finished his work, Japan is his home, and the Arctic isn't exactly the ideal place to live…"

"In the end, most people value their own interest the most… let him come here, his presence here will be beneficial to our plan and we will undoubtedly find a way to put his abilities to good use. What about the fourth request…?"

"It is from a certain Asahina Najiko from the security division who currently works in the United States."

"And how is she relevant?"

"I think that might be one of those occasions where a picture says more than a thousand words…"

* * *

><p>Several hundreds of meters above his father's office, the younger Ikari lay in what was to be his bed from now on, in a room that had been labeled 'Shin-chan's room' with a provisional piece of paper, some duct tape and a little heart which Misato had drawn on the former.<p>

With his trusty Walkman in his hand which he had painstakingly dug for in the many cardboard boxes which filled the chaotic-looking and, most of all, unfinished-looking room, he lay underneath this unfamiliar blanket which kept the warmth beneath it from leaving, but hadn't yet reached a particularly cozy temperature itself.

He had stuffed the earpieces into his ears and closed his eyes to retreat from that crazy, foreign world that had done all it could to expose him to much more than he could take, at least for a while.

One could close one's eyes, but without technological aid, sounds and noises were something one was constantly subjected to, the racket and gossiping and complaining of the people around him never ceased to torment him. He guessed that it was a survival thing, since people needed to wake up when something noisy and dangerous came their way, but right now, all he wanted was a little peace and quiet which he couldn't have unless he kept his ears busy with something other than his surroundings.

So he lay there, always listening to the same song, sometimes the next one, but never the one after that. At very last when Track 26 was over, he would press the rewind button.

After a while, it got hard to keep his eyes shut, since he wasn't really tired and thinking to hardly about it (And how could he be tired already? It had only been a few hours since he had awakened in the hospital. ) and so, he gazed at the small green satchel he'd brought with him and placed right next to the door directly after his arrival with one half-opened blue eye.

The music tape ran and ran and ran, and he stared and stared and stared.

* * *

><p>"Yes, it quite the traumatic experience for him… To be honest, I don't think that he'll ever agree to do it again…"<p>

"But you know that it is part of your job to make sure that he's usable, don't you?"

"Yeah, but I'm afraid that I'm not really getting through to him…"

"You're already complaining? It was only today that you dramatically announced that you would take him in…"

"Oh, just shut up!" Misato snapped back at here, ending the phone call at the push of a button and placing the gadget in a safe distance from the bathtub she was currently sitting in, strangely with her hair still tied up.

The not really that genuine anger soon made way to an expression of deep thought.

"At first, even I must've seen Shinji-kun as some tool for us to use… I'm becoming just like Ritsuko…

But still, it all just fits too perfectly… First, they find the third child of all sudden without mentioning it in any report whatsoever, and then, the fourth angel shows up, as if to respond to that, not to mention that commander Ikari's own son has been chosen to pilot the EVA… Somehow, it all just reeks of conspiracies…

And that's not the only thing that's strange…" the NERV-employee commented in her thoughts, staring up at the ceiling as if her young ward had already rubbed off on her.

"I've dedicated by life to battling the Angels… and this was our first great victory… so why… am I not enjoying it?"

* * *

><p>In the interim, Shinji had turned onto his back, but hadn't done much else. Most of his attention was, rather like his new guardian's, reserved for the ceiling above his head.<p>

It was a pretty simple, unadorned rectangular ceiling with a small lamp hanging down in the middle, once again radically different from the one he'd gotten used to in his teacher's mansion.

"Another unfamiliar ceiling…" he mumbled pensively, putting the thoughts that had haunted him for those last two day that had seemed like a single, bizarre long dream to him, into words.

"It's only natural, I guess… after all, there isn't a single place in this whole city that I know…"

Why should he expect to find a familiar ceiling in a foreign city? There were millions of people living in this city and he was only one of them, alone in this strange, unfamiliar place he hardly belonged to.

Misato had said that this was supposed to be his home now, but to be honest, he felt just as out of place here as he did everywhere else.

"Why am I here?"

His thoughts and worries, that had already been washed out of their hiding places in the ridges of his brain would no longer let themselves be suppressed or pushed aside in the room's silent darkness, so that just one Image of EVA 01, thought up amongst his deliberations about his reason to be here, showed itself to be enough to shatter the inner Wall he had erected around yesterday's memories.

Not those of his arrival, his father's icy welcome and that Ayanami Rei girl who kept dancing through his thoughts, he saw those clearly before him.

It was other, special memories…

Horrible memories which eclipsed everything else he'd been put through.

Memories of a battle, of loud, hammering noises and ponding pain, rhythmical shots that threatened to drive his skull apart…

He could still here the reverberation of their echo, as if they were here and now.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

_At point-blank range. Again and again. Straight into the face. Shinji kept frantically clutching his eye and the part of his skull that felt like it could burst apart at any moment… he could practically hear it crack – or was it that of Unit One?_

_He couldn't even think about it anymore, overcome so much pain, agony and suffering that he felt like he might just explode from the inside at any moment, tortured by a foreign object in parts of his skull that felt perfectly intact to his fingers – or had they just cracked open under the pressure from the Angel's steady bombardment?_

_With his feet hanging over the ground and his hands seemingly both hanging down uselessly and pressed to his skull, there wasn't anything he could do, and even if there were, the unending torment hardly left him any time to think._

_If only someone would help him._

_Oh, how he longed for someone to take him into their arms and tell him that everything was all right._

_But such a person didn't exist. He was all alone in this thing and he knew all too well that no one was coming to save him._

_The angel mercilessly continued its assault, and its efforts were rewarded: After many fruitless attempts, it had succeeded in piercing the skull on the EVA, its attack bursting through the other side, throwing the violet giant against a building._

_Without resistance, the EVA instantly slumped down, motionless save for the fountain of blood spraying from both holes in the biological machine's head._

_But even that didn't last forever, leaving the many instruments connected to the control center to pick up only one single thing as they scanned EVA 01: Complete silence._

_Now, if one were to define Silence as the absence of words rather than that of sound, if one were to restrict the meaning of the word to a lack of information exchange, then it could be said that the inside of Shinji's head was silent as well. His thoughts failed to take the shape of words, all that filled his skull was an absolute mental outcry that didn't leave the blackness of the entry plug through the pilot's mouth, but very much through the evangelion's thought interface._

_The pain that reached Shinji through the link was reflected back as a chilling cry of pain after it had traversed each and every fiber of the fourteen-year-old pilot._

_The rapid stream of agony was so powerful that many of the barriers that had hindered the flow of thoughts, sensations and emotions between man and the alleged machine until now were mercilessly torn down._

_The wish to be _heard, _to be delivered from_ _that horrific suffering was just too strong for Shinji to care that the usually so tightly shut barriers of his being were ripped open, revealing his innermost to the monstrous human creation._

_He was just that desperate, his wish for his screaming not to go unheard was just that strong._

_And his prayers were answered._

_There was a response._

_Somewhere in the depths of the vast emptiness inside the Evangelion that Shinji had filled with his fears and wishes, there was a stirring, a presence that had been scattered for a long time, floating within itself, was recognizing something that convinced the sparks of its existence to piece it back together, to awaken, to spread its arms and to call his name like a distant heartbeat, much like that of a mother must sound to her unborn child._

_And then, it all happened incredibly fast. He felt is coming over him, at first like a gentle embrace from behind, but then, like an entire torrent, flowing inside him, a vast stream of something he could only describe as "stimuli" for he couldn't tell whether it was pressure, warmth, cold, pain, arousal or just all at once._

_With eyes wide open, he felt his innermost being flooded by that faraway heartbeat that seemed to follow his own like an echo._

_Heart and heart, soul and soul in perfect unison._

_A flawless trinity of a boy that wanted to be saved, a beast that wanted to preserve itself and this brilliant surge of pleasant warmth, those arms he was unconditionally welcomed into, a harmonious concord that had melted into one single will that nothing could any longer oppose._

_From this point onwards, he could no longer say which actions were his own, which ones were Unit One's and which had come from _her.

_He honestly couldn't tell the difference anymore._

_The light returned to the violet beast's eyes._

_Now liberated from the limitations of its incomplete existence, the unified entity was quick to dispose of the pathetic restraints holding its jaws together, unleashing a spine-chilling, inhuman scream that lay somewhere between the roar of a beast and the sound of an engine powering up._

_And that was just the beginning._

_The flowing, organic movement which the creature used to catapult itself 50 meters through the air bore little resemblance to the younger Ikari's ill-fated attempts at walking._

_Fueled by the most ancient of instincts, the drive to preserve oneself and one's progeny, the entity was a being of brute force: Violently throwing the enemy to the ground with the sheer force of its impact, the howling predator attacked immediately, hitting and pulling on the overpowered angel's mask-like face, finding more than enough time to disfigure it, break it and even pull some bits off in the time that it took for the angel to recover from what bore striking resemblance to a state of shock and throw the attacker away with its powerful arms._

_All the same, the manmade abomination landed on its feet like a cunning feline, and immediately turned back to its victim, charging it like a berserker, barred of traits that would have allowed it restraint or hesitation._

_"We have won." Fuyutsuki commented in the command center._

_And indeed, the violet colossus didn't leave the overwhelmed angel the chance to erect is massive green upper body._

_The son of Adam, however, didn't give up so easily: Exuding an avian cry of exertion, he managed to twist himself back forward, and even if he was forced to support himself with his arms at first, his efforts were enough: enough to pull up the wall of his self between himself and his enemy to ward it off._

_The unified entity ran into a wall._

_With something that could very well be labeled as determination, the heavenly messenger's glowing red eyes stared through its wall, down at the human creation._

_But the horned giant was far from defeated._

_Like a muscular sailor pulling up his sleeves for a brawl to expose his tattoos, the unified being simply decided that it would need both its hands to deal with this particular enemy._

_With almost sickening ease, the being regenerated its arm and grunted demonstratively into the angel's direction, who realized, to his utmost shock, that this perversion which the lilim had crafted from the desecrated body of their own ancient mother, having defiled it further by forcing it into this misshapen form that resembled both their own, pathetic form and that of the angel's own honored father, (that alone was more than enough to the creation of this monster wrong and blasphemous in the angel's eyes) was actually capable of projecting the wall of its self, just like one of his own kind!_

_After one or two lillim had sacrificed their souls to feed the hollow aberration, that is._

_And this living sin, this twisted mockery of all creation, was actually able to grab Sachiel's wall and tear it apart without much of an effort._

_It would come. It didn't fail to announce this intention with another animalistic war cry._

_Sachiel wasted no time and sent a preemptive strike consisting of a laser beam from his eyes towards the enemy, a mighty, destructive discharge whose cross-shaped fire pulled down any bizarre creations of lilim origin that crossed its path._

_Buildings and other results of the fruit of knowledge weren't something that he could assign a meaning and a purpose; The concept of shelter was alien to a creature that was gifted with unlimited energy by the fruit of life, something abstract that Sachiel, who had mostly acted as an attacker and a seeker, hadn't really concerned himself with._

_His goals were to find Adam and destroy this perversion…_

_But it was all for naught._

_His energy beam hadn't as much as scratched the gigantic cyborg._

_Unfazed, it grabbed one of the angel's hands after the other, as if it were picking up some garbage, and broke them apart like wooden sticks._

_It made sure to squeeze every last drop of blood out of them, perhaps as a revenge for the broken arm earlier._

_EVA 01 didn't leave the angel any respite; the cracking of his arms was directly followed by a devastating kick that sent the messenger skidding across the city's rough ground until the collision with a particularly tall skyscraper brought it to a halt._

_But Unit One knew no mercy: The biomechanical construct charged the enemy of the world like a madman with an axe, making him and the few buildings behind him slide several blocks just with the sheer impact force of jumping on him with its whole body._

_The helpless, battered angel's torment, however, was far from over: Unswerving, EVA 01 rose anew. Being itself a celestial being or a least closely related to them, Unit One instinctively recognized the meaning of the red sphere in the angel's center._

_It was a partially transparent, crystalline structure with an uncertain glow coming from its inside, the part of the angel's body that, comparable to and yet very different from a human brain served as the vessel of the soul._

_In other words, it was the part of the body whose integrity had to be violated to end the angel's life. A fragile being such as a human would die if one were to stop their brain's supply of oxygen by otherwise damaging the rest of their body, but a being carrying the fruit of life was independent of things such as food or oxygen, only more "direct" measures would suffice to destroy the core. Such as brute force._

_Two merciless punches hit the angel's crystalline heart, shifting it within the already damaged body, until the Evangelion decided that it was no use and resolved to put one of the ribs that were conveniently sticking out of Sachiel's body to an unorthodox use._

_The EVA pulled at both sides of the EVA's ribcage, partially dislocating the core from its place within the angel's green, rubber-like flesh by tearing part of it free._

_Causing further bleeding, it managed to rip out one of his ribs, using it to stab at the very core it was once supposed to protect, screaming in mad bloodlust._

_The very first blow yielded cracks, and Unit One kept going at it._

_In his desperation, Sachiel gathered the strength to raise its half-crumbled head, but it was already too late. The human creation had already taken the upper hand, and the messenger knew that this injury to its core was a wound he would never recover from._

_But if reaching his father was impossible, then he could at least serve him by blowing this horrifying perversion off the face of his planet._

_The angel wrapped his limbs around the enemy and turned himself inside-out, forming a firm, dark sphere around the Evangelion's upper body._

_Sachiel's voice that was more of an extension of its still overwhelming, alien presence that invited resonance was still as steely as it had been in the beginning, perhaps a last gesture of defiance and pride._

_….YOU…..COME…WITH…..ME…_

_And then, he was no longer able to hold the barriers of his self and its body swelled until it burst into fireworks of blood, dwarfed by a huge, cross-shaped explosion that followed the core's ultimate destruction which leveled a sizeable portion of the city and catapulted particles of the angel's liquefied corpse high into the atmosphere where they refracted the starlight to form the covenant's seven-colored emblem, the double rainbow, as they already began to return to the newly-formed crater as thick, viscous drops, almost like a rain of blood and gore._

_And yet, the sacrifice was for naught: As soon as the smoke began to clear, the Evangelion could be seen wading through the bloody rain, completely intact, with its green fluorescent ornaments evoking the image of a savage warrior's war paint._

Evangelion Unit 01 had been victorious.

_The giant's steps didn't come to a stop before it had reached the still cooling, but nonetheless standing parts of the city, just outside the crater, its lone eye still glowing like a beacon._

_It was only now that it would have made any sense to speak of a separate, independently acting being with the designation "Ikari Shinji" with the body inside the entry plug as his borders, regarding the interface through his own eyes._

_He still sat there with his eyes wide open, still feeling those foreign emotions "hanging" inside him, still mixing with his own in a way that made it hard to tell them apart as he was still deeply connected to the system._

_But what he was _also _connected to once again was, at least judging by the technicians' reports he was now hearing, NERV headquarters._

_This mind-numbing experience, however, had left whatever parts of him were responsible for processing information threadbare, so that the flush of words coming from the intercom barely even reached his consciousness._

_The knowledge about the events that just transpired was still lingering in his mind, like any extraordinary memory would, but he couldn't put it into words._

_It was penned in a language of simple feelings and sensations that a more or less rational consciousness could hardly access, in a way resembling recollections of one's early childhood._

_And yet, that information still managed to "occupy" him somehow, blocking his thoughts._

_The next stimulus to truly reach him and wake him from his dream-like in-between-state was the loud noise of an armor plate crashing into the ground._

_Even if he tentatively glanced down, half dazed and half bashful, he did it out of some sort of habit, for he didn't need to do so in order to tell that it was the half of EVA 01's head armor that had been previously thoroughly demolished by the now deceased angel. To him, it felt like it was his very own cheek the metal had slid off from._

_But… if that metal sliding off had felt like… some sort of helmet being removed, then… just what was beneath?_

_Next to him was a building with a reflective glass façade, and even though it was night, the explosion's afterglow provided more than enough light for him to see… to he could technically take a look._

_Yet somehow, he felt uneasy, almost as if he _shouldn't_ look._

_Still… a boy has got to be allowed to glance at the cool technologic insides of his own combat robot, shouldn't he?_

_So he turned his head to get a good view of his robot…_

_Except… it wasn't a robot._

_What he saw was, in spite of all the cybernetic accessories squeezing it into place, deformed FLESH, a grotesquely warped face with nostrils and an ugly hole where its eye should be._

_Speechless at first, he then gave off a soft sound of mortification staring at the brownish, mangled flesh of Evangelion Unit One… until it began to bestir itself._

_It was the eye._

_The EYE._

_Oh God, the **EYE**._

_Fresh meat bubbled from the black hole in the EVAs face, swiftly straightening itself out, only to slit open again to reveal new, pink flesh from which a green eye that was covered will all too little skin sprung, immediately turningin what appeared to be his direction._

_Shinji stared._

_Unit One stared back._

_He saw Unit One through its own eyes, and its eyes moved so that their reflection would look like it was looking at him…and in spite of all physical laws, barriers and plates of armor, it _saw _him…_

_And he saw that._

_He saw himself through the eyes of the beast, through its thoughts and perceptions…_

_All things considered, what he'd been forced to witness was just so grotesque that he couldn't think of any suitable reaction other than to keep screaming until his throat failed to produce any more sound._

Deeply disturbed, Shinji stared at the ceiling with his eyes wide open, incapable of handling the memories' sudden return.

Shaken to the core, he rolled onto his side and curled into a ball, his stare now directed at the wall rather than the ceiling.

In the following half hour, he moved exactly once, to cover himself with a blanket.

Even when someone knocked on the door, he failed to react, in the same way that a computer with a blue screen would ignore any of its user's attempt to move the mouse around or try out any repertoire of key combinations.

"Shinji-kun…? May I come in?" Misato asked, her voice serious and heavy, purged of the almost hyperactive cheerfulness she had worn for the rest of the day.

He only noticed that she eventually entered on her own accord when no reply came because of the light that fell in from the hallway through the door she had opened.

"I have… forgotten to tell you something…" she began, honest and forthright.

Right now, it wouldn't have been an overstatement to say that he was frankly incapable of turning around to face her, but the tone of her voice practically carried a warm smile with it.

He hadn't thought that she could sound like this, neither the 'cool' head of the operations department nor the sloppy beer appreciator.

She sounded so… honest and… caring and warm…

Her voice… touched something inside of him, her words gave him something that he had forgotten about a long time ago, something he'd nonetheless missed bitterly all along.

It might have been attention or affection, perhaps of the maternal kind, or just simple old love, in any case, Shinji hadn't received it for so long that he could no longer as much as name it.

All he could do was to keep listening to Misato's melodious sentences:

"You did a very praiseworthy thing yesterday.

You were very brave… and everyone here is deeply in your debt…

You have all the right to be proud of yourself.

Sweet Dreams, Shinji-kun."

Yes, he thought that he'd once known this feeling, a long, long time ago… Maybe… maybe he should just… give this place a try, maybe… something would really change if he just… gave all of this a go…

_"Hang in there."_

Yes, maybe.

He could still feel the chill that had been left by the horrors he'd witnessed yesterday deep within his bones, and those terrifying experiences alone should have been enough of a reason for him to leave this strange, frightening place behind him as quickly as possible, to get away from all those new people that he felt so insecure around.

But what Misato had just said had made him feel… supported, if only just a little.

She was still a complete stranger, but she seemed to… know the way.

He… he didn't know what to think of her yet.

Maybe he was just imagining things, or maybe she was just trying to deceive him because of her job…

Or maybe, that little bit of support was all he'd been needing all this time…

Was it genuine emotions, foolish illusions or overblown hopes that left him behind with this feeling of ambivalence?

What gave him that impression that he wasn't sure if he wanted to leave this place or not?

What was it that left him full of this emptiness that pulled at the torn remains of his inner universe?

As it was, he was here, and in this strange, unreal place… Misato was the closest to a "safe" person he could cling to, the only real human in this city, the only one to offer him as much as a spark of warmth…

In any case, he would stay here… at least, for the time being.

* * *

><p>At that time, Shinji couldn't have known yet that he wasn't the only one who had made himself at home that evening.<p>

If throwing a flat into total disarray, knocking over the couch, ripping the curtains apart, plundering the fridge like an animal, leaving its contents scattered at over the place with bite marks on them, leaving the door open and reducing the previous owners to a bloody pile in a corner deserved that label, that is. It certainly wasn't everyone's ideal vision of how to move into a new home.

The corpus delicti, a huge kitchen knife, was still stuck in a woman's corpse when the perpetrator emerged from the shower, stark naked.

Her long, blue hair was still damp and as such, still partially clinging to her impossible body.

At first, one may have thought that she was on her way to one of the bedrooms, but then, her steps stopped abruptly before the previous owners' corpses as she turned towards them.

Eying them with a scrutinizing glance, the escaped test subject extended her arm towards them, and if to answer her, a motion seemed to pass through the corpses, a sudden jolt as if they had somehow been activated.

The dismembered bodies twitched a little before they practically exploded, soiling the floor that had already been sullied with their blood with the reddish-orange liquid their murderer's might had reduced them to.

But the entity skeptically narrowed her eyes; Only the heads and torsos had properly exploded, and they had still left something of a crust, with the limbs appearing virtually untouched.

"This will have to improve… significantly."

* * *

><p>(1) I'm not comfortable referring to sentient beings such as the Angels as "it", (After all, a number of them displays curiosity or attempt communication and one even goes as far as romancing the main character) but I figured that I sort of had to do so as long as I was writing from the perspective of the human characters. The pronoun flip is supposed to coincide with a flip in perspective, an interesting narrative technique I wanted to try out after seeing it in Naruto (Kyuubi vs. Pein) and Bleach (Ulquiorra vs. Tranformed!Ichigo) of all places, a situation where the party you were initially supposed to root for becomes something so inhuman that it's the <em>antagonist, (<em>usually the sort of antagonist that is ruthless but not monstrous /can still be reasoned with), who makes a better PoV character and thus gets the thought bubbles… of course here, where the audience knows the outcome, you don't get that effect that the reader wonders whom they actually want to win, but the point I wanted to get across is that between Sachiel and a berserking EVA 01, Sachiel is the least terrifying of the two. As for which pronouns I'll use with the remaining Angels, should the need arise, I freely admit that I am guessing. Of course, "it" isn't that accurate for Unit One, either, but again, perspective, neither Sachiel nor our poor traumatized Shin-chan know that (yet.)

(2) Yes, I personally support the theory that the pilot is, at least partially involved in a Berserk, for various reasons that I'll detail if you want me to. Everyone puts their own interpretations into their FFs, never stopped me from reading any.

(3) As for the much debated subject of Adam as a mother/father, I'm going with that Anno interview in "Shinzo/parano" where he talks of all the oedipal constructs within the series and names Adam as a paternal figure in the background.

(4) This Chapter also saw the first mentions of my OCs Mitsurugi and Asahina. Don't worry; they're intended as minor characters, so feel free to tell me if they ever get annoying. I introduced them to explore certain themes and fill some blank spots we know some unseen NERV and/or SEELE personel must've filled, and to bring about certain situations with the main Characters… Mitsurugi, in particular (who also has a son who will be playing a role of his own), is intended as a foil/contrast for Gendo, which means he has some virtues Gendo lacks… and, as it will turn out much later, he lacks some of Gendo's virtues.

(5) This is about the average chapter size, I think.

(6) If neither of this has turned you off, you might look forward to Chapter 05: [Judgement]


	8. 07: Judgment

**07: [Judgment]**

* * *

><p><em>If you wouldn't mind, I would like it blew<em>

_And If you wouldn't mind, I would like it loose_

_And If you wouldn't care, I would like to leave_

_And If you wouldn't mind, I would like to breathe_

_Is there another reason for your stain?_

_Could you believe who we knew was stress and strain?_

_Here is another word that rhymes with shame_

_You could do anything_

_-Nirvana, 'Blew'_

* * *

><p><strong>Excerpt from a composition by highschool student Suzuhara Touji:<strong>

"My little sister was injured in the incident. She's only in second grade! And the worst is, it wasn't even the enemy that caused her injuries, it was that crazy purple robot that was supposed to be on _our_ side! I can't believe this ridiculous story any more than I can forgive it!

If I ever meet any of those useless _fuckwads _who built the robot, I swear I'm gonna make them feel my anger and my sister's pain!"

* * *

><p>It all began when he moved in.<p>

In the first nights after his arrival at the Katsuragi residence, Shinji's dreams had been more vibrant than ever before; His time of rest had been filled with wild, intense visions which, at times, had seemed much more real than the fast, ridiculous mind-numbing moments that he called his waking hours and trudged through like a sleepwalker, nothing more than a small, unimportant detail in background of a larger stage setting, the kind that could be left out without anybody noticing.

He supposed that it made sense – His teacher had once told him that dreams were a byproduct of the subconscious processing the events of the day, and frankly, the most recent happenings had left Shinji with _a lot_ to process, prompting his brain to produce an according variety of ejecta:

There were gruesome nightmares filled with angels, evangelions and excruciating pain; Distorted scraps of his early childhood that managed to terrify him to no end when he was asleep, but refused to make any sort of sense when he wasn't, the sort of dreams which were to be expected of an at least physically healthy 14-year-old, mostly involving a certain sparsely dressed enthusiastic beer-consumer whose assets he'd already been in, uh…. contact with a couple of times as the starring role, and, most likely the worst, those dreams that were filled to the brim with his father's dark, broad-shouldered silhouette, his stone face and the reflective surface of his glasses.

Over and over again, this girl, this Ayanami Rei or whatever she was called would turn up in those dreams, in all sorts of different contexts and places, like his mind was an old, derelict mansion or castle and she was the ghost haunting it.

And then, there was _that_ dream.

A certain, very specific dream that kept returning, always leaving him with the feeling of having it seen countless times, kept dancing through his consciousness, even as all the other dreams receded to an almost normal level within the first two weeks or so.

Even when he had it for the first time – that is, the first time he could remember – there had been this uncomfortable sense of familiarity.

The dreams weren't always identical, but always followed a similar pattern and never came without that strong sense of déjà-vu.

At first, there was the distant sound of ocean surf as it was usually heard on a beach.

Sometimes, this was all there was, an endless shoreline stretching through an endless white expanse like it belonged to some minimalistic dawning, just waves meeting nonexistent land for half an eternity until he finally woke up.

But from time to time, there would be more, like a pungent stench in the air or the feel of the ground beneath his body, allowing him to discern that he wasn't just seeing this scenery from some kind of bird's eye view like he was watching a movie, but actually physically involved.

He was wearing his usual school uniform, the black pants, the tightly-strapped belt, the white shirt that was partially stuffed into the afore mentioned pants, his ugly, white trainers and the blue undershirt – and for some reason, each and every of those articles of clothing was completely drenched in some warm liquid which spread more of that scent that seemed to dominate this entire setting… It was almost… like blood.

Often, this would be the part where he woke up, but when he didn't, this was usually when his dream-self began to stir and open his eyes.

Above him was the infinite, jet-black canopy with a gargantuan red streak stretching across. It seemed to be in the process of dispersing, like a drop of paint sprayed into a glass of water.

Shinji turned his head just a little; before him lay the most surreal of sights: Humongous, grey, cross-shaped monoliths were sticking out of the landscape without any particular pattern to them, surrounded by the dented, battered remains of buildings and metal structures; the last scraps of civilization.

Even the very ground and the few clouds that could be glimpsed appeared to be burnt and, perhaps the single most bizarre thing… wasn't that a woman's forearm on the horizon?

Shinji sat up, taking more of his blasted surroundings into his field of vision.

He didn't even know what to think.

It was as if he'd been thrown into one of Dali's paintings while he had been asleep.

The only thing he recognized was the crimson, stinking ocean, but that did nothing to detract from the desolation of this scenery.

Shinji kept looking around, but the one and only living thing in close proximity appeared to be himself.

Hesitantly, he rose to his feet, inhaling the suffocating stench of his surroundings.

He was now standing on his own two legs, but how did that even help him in a place like this?

There was nothing for him to walk towards, no place that could bring him any sort of advantage if he should manage to reach it.

It occurred to him to search for someone, but given the desolation out here, he might as well save himself the effort, as it was very likely to go to waste, Shinji was still unable to spot anything living and neither did he mistake himself for someone with the capacity to seek it out.

He didn't even really know _who_ to search for, anyways, maybe his father?

Yeah sure, as if the ever busy commander of Nerv had any reason to be in a place like this… it's not like he was going to come looking for his son.

He didn't think that there was a single person in this world who viewed him as important enough for him or her to enter this lifeless wasteland just to search for him.

And even _if_ his father were here, would he really do much but go about his way without even turning to check whether his son was following him or not?

How would that really be different from being all alone? Wasn't it pretty much the same, except without the addition of having to constantly feel his father's rejection?

No, it was probably for the better that his father wasn't here.

Being alone was better.

And still, he could not help but task himself the same questions all over again as he let himself sink back into the sand in resignation:

What in the world could he possibly have done to end up in such an empty, desolate, horrible place?

Why wasn't anyone… with him?

And whenever Shinji awoke from this particular dream, some part of his existence would be deeply convinced that he had witnessed this particular scene thousands of times, over and over again. But not enough with that, even the ceiling above him which he'd only just gotten used to would appear oddly familiar after finishing the dream, as if he'd spent sheer eternities staring at it.

His room in Misato's apartment, Misato's voice intruding from some other corner of the house, it all seemed so… _not_ wrong to him, he was almost tempted to say that there was another voice missing.

But he would always dismiss those addle impressions as his imagination, possibly amplified by the aftereffects of the latest synch tests, and he never mentioned it to anyone, as they would always subside within moments of his awakening.

Déjà vu was a fairly common phenomenon, after all.

* * *

><p>"So, did you get the latest surveillance reports on the Third Child?" Dr. Akagi asked her colleague from the operations division.<p>

The conversation came to brief halt as the ski-lift-like construction which was currently transporting the two women two a section of their base that currently consisted of little more than frameworks produced something of a screeching sound.

It was only when the contraption had quieted down again that Misato replied:

"Yes, I did."

"Let me guess: They're lying somewhere beneath your mountains of junk, still unread."

"Very funny."

"So it's true?"

"Of course not! At least not exactly… I _did_ skim through them, but I don't think reading them properly is even necessary. Shinji-kun hardly spends any time outside his room, anyway…. And in any case, I don't think his private life is really any of our business… Maybe we should keep out of it as much as we can…"

"You're his _guardian _and ensuring his operational readiness is part of your job. Wasn't this exactly how you justified this to the commander?"

"Yeah, I know but somehow I… imagined this would be easier. I can't really seem to get through to him…"

"So much for "I can totally handle the boy."…"

"I kind of thought that he …just needs a hug… - Not a literal one, of course, before you get that kind of thoughts again…"

"I wasn't getting _any_ sort of thoughts before _you_ made that remark. " the head of the science department replied poisedly.

Misato sighed. "In any case, I thought he was simply lonely and that a little bit attention and company would fix him, but it seems like it's not that simple at all…"

"How's school?" the scientist asked. "Has he gotten used to his new classmates yet?"

"Well, he says that there's no problem so far, but personally, I'm not really convinced… I don't think he got any calls yet."

"Calls?" Dr. Akagi raised an eyebrow.

"For obvious reasons, I got him a cellphone when he first moved in, but so far, I haven't seen him using it, and I haven't heard anyone calling, either. I'm afraid that he might not have any friends at all… and he won't even talk about it…"

"If you ask me, I don't think any of this is your fault… Shinji-kun just doesn't seem the type to forge new bonds easily… have you ever heard of the hedgehogs's dilemma?"

"Hedgehogs? Those thorny ones?"

"Well, if two hedgehogs have the desire to get close to each other, they get something of a problem. The closer they come together, the more they'll hurt each other with their thorns…

I think that Shinji-kun is this introverted because he's simply afraid of being hurt…"

"Yeah but… someday he's going to have to understand that one can only learn how to keep the proper distance by opening oneself up from time to time, even if that involves risking to be hurt… it's just another part of growing up…

Oh, and Ritsuko?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have any clue if we're going to get the money to properly renovate the b-wing anytime soon?"

The fake blonde took another drag on her cigarette, amused about the sudden turning away from the philosophic topics.

"Well, right now, all the money's being put into the maintenance and armament of the EVAs. Everything else will have to wait."

"Tell that to my freezing butt…"

* * *

><p>By now, the iridescent flicker of colors of the activation sequence failed to yield as much as a wink from Shinji.<p>

For the last weeks, he had been seeing them almost every other day.

They had left him to rest on the day after the battle, and Misato had been able to enforce that he'd be left alone on the next day after as well, on the grounds that it was of utmost importance to make sure that his nervous system had fully recovered, given that he was currently the only available pilot.

The same reason, however, was used to escort him back to headquarters on the very next day afterwards – As they were currently forced to rely on him, it was imperative to make sure that he was actually reliable, that is, to begin his training.

And since his first attempt to move the Eva had ended with him inelegantly falling flat on his face, Misato hadn't disagreed.

Before he knew, he found himself permanently squeezed into the role of EVA 01's designated pilot without anyone really asking him.

Admittedly, it wasn't as if had really done much protesting against it, but even if he _had_ complained, what did the odds of anyone seriously giving a damn about it really look like?

In addition to that, there _was _that little, naïve part of him that hoped that his staying here would actually make a difference and wished to somehow participate in the lives of both Misato and his father.

Not that he would ever dare to as much as _think_ those foolish hopes out loud.

That would only damn him a feeling of bitter disappointment when he made the first of his inevitable mistakes.

In any case, his training had begun on the third day of his stay in Tokyo-3, even if the word "training" was little more than the official designation at first – initially, his trips to Nerv headquarters had mostly numerous physical examinations and tests waiting for him.

Those hadn't bothered him that much; he was even allowed to keep listening to his music half the time.

It was only later that they began connecting him to the Eva on a regular basis, be it directly or indirectly through test chambers or simulation bodies.

At first, the primary purpose of those exercises was to get him used to synching with the violet titan and increase his performance to an usable level, though Dr. Akagi claimed that they might as well have skipped that part of the test phase in his case.

Plug Depht, Harmonix, Synchronization ratio… To be honest, Shinji couldn't even begin to make sense of all those scientific terms, and as long as they didn't give anyone a reason to complain or send him away, he couldn't care less what they meant.

What he _did_ notice, though, was the connection with Unit 01 no longer overwhelmed him the way it had the first time, and that he'd no longer felt any notable aftereffects after the third or fourth try at synchronization.

For whatever that was worth.

Even a kid like him could tell that the level of strain that just sitting inside that thing put on him couldn't even be compared to what actually fighting in it or, heaven forbid, having it go berserk with him inside once again, would do to him.

Curiously, the berserk itself had been good luck within bad luck for Nerv's scientists – as it seemed, they hadn't known much more about the most effective methods to send an angel straight to nirvana than Shinji did.

On the other hand, just one battle proved enough for Dr. Akagi and her co-workers to collect sufficient data to present him with detailed battle simulations, which, of course, had been placed right after the acclimatization phase in Shinji's training schedule.

Incidentally, Shinji had also come to find out why he'd been asked for his measurements and favorite color: Apparently, there was a special uniform or duty apparel for Eva pilots, which was, called a 'plug suit', in keeping with naming of those strange cockpit capsules.

For example, that strange, form-fitting rubber costume which that Ayanami girl had been wearing on the day of his arrival had been one of these plug suits, if, naturally, one conceived for female pilots. His own looked somewhat differently.

Those contraptions on the front were a bit more pronounced, rather than a zero, there was a big one on the back and the color scheme was clearly divided in two. Much like Rei's suit, his has some black elements on the sides, but while the rest of hers was almost entirely solid white, his was dark blue from the waist down, while the upper part was kept in the same very light blue as his interface headset, and, much like Rei's, clung closely to his skin once he'd properly put it on.

His first thoughts were that he might as well have been told to publicly walk around in nothing but socks and underwear, but once he'd gotten over his initial disconcertedness, he had to admit that it was a pretty comfortable piece of clothing, almost like a second skin – which of course wasn't the only reason why that outfit had been recommended to him.

At first there were, of course, the practical aspects of it – The entry plug would usually be filled with LCL, and who'd really like to wash the sticky substance out of their clothes every other day, not to speak of the multiple nooks and crannies of their own body?

In addition to that, those plug suits were stuffed to the brim with all kinds of life support functionalities to complement those of the EVA itself, including thermic isolation, a defibrillator and numerous electrodes to measure various bodily functions – the very thought that he might actually _need_ these anytime soon was enough to make his blood run cold.

Lastly, the plug suit also helped to enhance synchronization by minimizing outside interferences and making sure that every bit of his skin was sensing the same texture, making it easier to concentrate on the sensations coming from the EVA. There were extra interface connections spread throughout it, too.

All in all, it was a fairly useful multipurpose outfit, but then again, Shinji was fine with just about anything that created a physical barrier between him and his surroundings.

"Hello, Shinji-kun. How are you today?" Ritsuko asked.

There was already a certain routine to it.

"I'm fine…" he replied, silently passively surrendering himself to the procedures just like he'd done the last day and on the day before that, too, his eyes downcast.

"I've gotten used to it…" That was the truth, at least as far as the experiments went – as much as it was actually _possible_ to get used to something like this.

"All right. Have you memorized the locations of power cables and spare weapons?"

"Yes." He confirmed, almost mechanically.

"Okay… We'll be doing some more practice in induction mode, just like yesterday. Today, we're going to simulate the case of a battle with a time limit. As you know, the EVA is normally supplied with energy through the umbilical cable. If the cable should get cut, you'll still have the batteries, but those will only last a minute on maximum performance, and five minutes at most. In such a situation, you'll be forced to defeat the enemy as quickly as possible."

By pressing some keys, Dr. Akagi made a virtual image of both his Eva and a simulated Angel, molded after the one he fought some weeks ago, materialize before Shinji's eyes.

"Every angel possesses a so called core. Destroying it is the only reliable way to destroy them. So, aim for the center of the target and pull the trigger."

"Aim for the center of the target… and pull the trigger…" Shinji repeated, pointing the virtual rifle at the enemy.

His face appeared completely impassive, apathetic even, but the margin by which he missed his target betrayed his nervousness.

Nobody could tell him just how soon he might be facing an _actual _monster in a fight to the death….

"Concentrate." Dr. Akagi reprimanded.

Shinji fired another shot – and hit.

The simulated angel exploded.

"Very well. You're doing fine." Ritsuko commented, not taking her ever-watchful eyes of her screens.

Separated from them by a thick glass wall, the fourteen-year-old continued his practice inside the simulation body, a huge construct bizarrely resembling a spitfire pilot's helmet, with bits and pieces of organic matter occasionally peeking through the metal.

"I'm surprised that Shinji-kun agreed so easily to continue after all he's been through in the first battle…" Lt Ibuki commented, sitting in front of a terminal evaluating the data, npot far from her superior.

"Looks like he always does exactly as he's told…" Dr. Akagi explained, her voice devoid of the worry that might have been appropriate. "I guess that's also a way to cope with life."

There was something about that very idea that rubbed Misato, who was standing in the back of the room with her arms crossed, in a _very_ wrong way. There it was again, that passivity, that boy's all-too transparent pretense of indifference.

She'd had her own share of problems and ordeals, too, and was _she_ perhaps painting herself in the role of the victim for the convenience of shifting all the blame to others?

No, it was probably that same similarity to her own situation, to what she'd almost become, to what she dearly hoped she hadn't become which enraged her so much.

* * *

><p>Aside from strange dreams of apocalyptic landscapes and battle training in ginormous biomechanical mechas, there was yet another thing that Shinji had gotten used to by now: His new school.<p>

"Getting used to it", however, didn't mean much more than that he had no more trouble finding the correct rooms and had managed to memorize the names of the teachers.

While he had been tutored privately up until now, that was mostly because his father had lots of money and no intention to bother with him – it wasn't like he really required individual attention, he didn't have any exceptional talents, debilitating learning disabilities or any other characteristics that would've merited diligent attention or made him unsuited for a normal public school.

Not that the school in question was _completely_ ordinary – Allegedly, it had been built specifically for the children of Nerv employees and was thus more or less owned by the organization, which had the advantage that it was close to an entrance to the geofront in case of emergency and that the money for school books, uniforms and other materials would be reimbursed to him. It also made surveillance easier, whatever Dr. Akagi had meant by that.

Shinji himself didn't particularly care.

He didn't really bother with school, after all, it wasn't like anyone would praise him for earning good grades.

As long as they weren't _too_ bad, there would be no scolding, and as long as there was no scolding, Shinji was fine with the state of affairs.

He just went there, sat down, kept quiet, did what the teachers told him to do and went back home.

Usually, this was all there ever was.

When he rose from his sleep and put on his clothes this morning, he certainly hadn't expected any significant deviations from that routine, and that suited him just fine.

He hoped that nothing would happen, that he would be spared of new opportunities to screw things up.

Still, that little voice that kept bugging him with the possibility that things just _might_ turn out the right way for once refused to shut up, and he was sick and tired of hearing it.

Yes, good outcomes were possible, but that didn't mean they _had _to happen, and much less to him.

But that was old news; it was okay, he already knew about that.

After all, what had he really done to deserve any luck? All he wanted was to be left in peace, he was perfectly content with that.

Silently, Shinji stuffed his books into his school bag, his thoughts busy with convincing himself that he wasn't disappointed to be confronted with nothing but dreary everyday life after he'd come all the way here, after he'd allowed himself to feel something like hope for once in his life.

Sighing, he put on his backpack and silently moved to the kitchen to make himself something to eat, stopping by at Misato's door along the way, again, without any high hopes; It hadn't taken him too long to notice that Katsuragi Misato was …not a morning person, especially if she'd been on the night shift the day before.

After he'd quietly prepared himself some lunch, he left the apartment, carrying a garbage bag which he'd planned to dispose of on the way.

It was probably enough to state that the layers of trash in the Katsuragi household had melted down at an exponential rate.

The housekeeping work gave Shinji the feeling that he was at least _a little_ usefull around here, even if he would have preferred it if Misato weren't already taking it for granted.

In any case, once the garbage was taken care of, he clapped the dust from his hands, plugged in his headphones and headed for the school building.

He hardly took note of his surroundings anymore; He'd gotten used to all the flashy technology and everything else he could possibly have glimpsed here would probably do little to improve his mood.

Therefore, he chose to concentrate on his music and the patch of ground directly in front of his feet.

The closer he came to the school, the more students walking the same path as him could be seen – the uniform usually gave them away.

Regardless, Shinji kept a safe distance from them, not daring to talk to them or to even graze their fields of vision, lest it occur to them to talk to _him_ –

He would surely be end up being a nuisance or say something wrong, and ultimately get shouted at one way or another…

Crossing the doorstep of the school building, Shinji still had his headphones plugged into his ears, and his gaze was still lowered; He only saw the faucets and shoe cupboards, the walls and floors of the building, or the many legs of his fellow students that filled the corridors before him, eventually thinning out as they distributed themselves amongst the classrooms.

When he finally reached his own, little notice was taken; The other students were all caught up in their own little worlds, mostly minding their own business: While some preferred to use the time before the teacher's arrival for a nice nap, the girls were mostly assembled in groups of three or four, having lively chats about the big topics of the day and here and there, in the second-to- last row, you'd even find one of them rereading her notes on the last lesson, but she appeared to be an unique case – the only thing anyone in the rest of the class bothered to read were various mangas.

In the back of the classroom, some boy was trying to impress his classmates by using a large ruler that was probably intended for use on the blackboard as an air guitar, and that alone should have been enough to draw all attention away from a silent, nondescript boy walking over to his desk.

He couldn't understand what they were speaking of, but they all seemed relaxed and, save for very few exceptions, were all standing together in small groups.

The only person who seemed to be just as alone as he was sat amongst numerous unused tables that were no longer a rarity in this room, right next to the window, perpetually gazing through it, turned away from the noise and activity in the remainder of the classroom.

It was the injured girl from the cage.

The stranger who didn't cease to fascinate him.

Ayanami Rei.

It had only been two days since she first stopped going to school again and even now that she had been discharged from the hospital, she still looked rather worse for the wear.

She was still wearing bandages around her head and a not-quite-so-thick-anymore cast around her arm, and her eye was still hidden beneath.

That extremely unhealthy-looking skin tone had stayed, too – Shinji had still not quite come to terms with the thought that this was, in fact, her normal skin color.

She still appeared so very, very weak and fragile, compelling Shinji to talk to her or at least be there for her in some shape or form… After all, he knew very well what it felt like to be all alone when everybody else was happily interacting, and to see that poor, injured girl sitting there, all lonesome and abandoned like a lost child, seemed just plain _wrong_ to him.

But what he knew even better was that he could never possibly work up the courage to approach her.

And so, he just sat down, tearing his glance from her in resignation.

* * *

><p>A few rows of seats further back, a boy with longish, light-brown hair was occupied with something completely different.<p>

While he certainly wasn't the only one in this room who had brought a little something to entertain himself, most would probably have regarded bringing a whole _camcorder_ as a bit of overkill there – especially since it was being used to film little plastic warplane while their owner enthusiastically supplied the sound effects himself.

He was wearing the same school uniform as Shinji, except that he had a red undershirt beneath it and didn't seem to have bothered to stuff his shirt into his trousers.

Aside from his glasses, his face was also adorned with a fair amount of freckles, a small, knobby nose and two huge, hazel eyes – that last bit, however, was not exactly apparent at the moment as he had one eye squeezed shut and the other looking straight into his camcorder.

Alas, he was soon forced to remove his trusty electronic friend from his face when the blurred form of a girl's uniform appeared behind his plastic plane.

The uniform in question consisted of a short blue dress whose lower half resembled a pleated skirt, and some sort of white blouse that was supposed to be decorated with a red ribbon at the collar, but currently couldn't be seen in its entirety because its owner was holding a folder that was in turn blocking part of it from view.

They both belonged to a freckled girl of average build whose brown hair was molded into two pigtails by a pair of hair ties augmented with pearl-like purple ornaments.

Her dark eyes were shooting the boy with the camcorder a scolding look.

"What's the matter, class rep?" he asked, still oblivious of what he could have done to draw the ire of the resident figure of authority.

"…did you take care of yesterday's printouts?"

The camera boy's subsequent 'Ehh…?' made him sound very much like a four-year-old caught with his hand in the cookie box.

"Er, the thing is…" he began, making one last attempt to distract the girl long enough for him to bury the positively un-delivered documents under his desk between his other possessions. "…no matter how often I tried, no one would open the door. Looks like there wasn't anyone at Touji's place."

The class representative obviously didn't buy his hasty excuse and followed his words with the mandatory lecture: "Aida-kun, you're Suzuhara's friend, aren't you? Aren't you worried at all?"

"I don't know, he may have been injured." was Aida's retort.

"What? You don't mean during that robot battle, do you?" the class representative inquired, surprised. "But they said on TV that no one was hurt!"

"And how would that be possible? You've seen the resulting crater yourself. Not only Iruma and Komatsu, no, they even had to send units from Misawa and Kyushu!

I'm pretty sure that at least ten, if not twenty people must've been hurt. There might even have been causalities…"

The conversation between the two was interrupted by the noise of the classroom's door opening to reveal a swarthy teenager around their age who was quite obviously in a very rotten mood. He wore his black hair in a short, modern style, appeared to have eschewed the school's dress code in favor of a dark blue tracksuit, and had brown eyes that, not unlike the rest of his face, clearly signalized that the foot he'd risen out of bed with today was most definitely not the correct one.

"Touji!"

"Suzuhara!"

The two were rather surprised to see the topic of their conversation standing before them of all sudden – his camcorder-toting friend had even forgotten to remove the afore mentioned device from his face as he turned his head toward his newly-arrived friend.

The greeting, however, did not seem to significantly improve the taller boy's mood, who proceeded to angrily throw his bag onto the table next to his friends, greet him with a curt "Hi!" and take a look around the rather empty classroom.

"Looks like the number of students here has been decreasing drastically!"

"Evacuations, evacuations…" the bespectacled youth explained. "Lots of people have been transferred after the whole incident. It's not much a surprise when you consider that there was a _real battle_ in the middle of the city."

"You're just about the only one who's happy about that…"

"Yeah, probably. And then there's that serial killer, too…"

"Don't tell me they still haven't caught that bastard…"

"Not yet. It was only the day before yesterday that they found some more corpses in an apartment building. That guy's methods are getting crazier by the day. At first, the victims were practically chopped to bits and no one could explain how he managed to sever their heads and limbs with such clean cuts… But since a few weeks, they've also been finding victims that look like their bodies practically melted, all they find are bits and pieces of flesh in puddles of sticky goo… And the creepiest part is, it seems as if the perp _kept living in the victims' houses _for quite a while after he'd offed them. They're pretty sure by now – showers were used and, in the first few cases, just left running, fridges were found _plundered _as if some wild animal had rummaged through them – the last victims even had some of their clothes stolen…And on top of that comes the robot battle. _Of course_ people are fleeing the city. I've heard that another hundred left just yesterday… But that aside, what about you?

You've been absent for quite a while – Were you hurt in the battle?"

"Not me", Touji answered gruffly, revealing the reason for his frustrations: "Sakura. My little sister. She was buried under a pile of rubble. She survived, but she's been in hospital ever since, and since both my father and my grandfather work at the institute and can't really quit right now, I was the only one left – If I hadn't stayed with her, she would have been all alone…"

His voice betrayed his worry quite overtly.

"In any case, I'd really like to know what sort of _moron _they put behind the controls of that robot so that fucking _coward_ can show his damned _face_ to me! Our _own_ robot blows up the city! What on earth was that dumbass _doing_?!"

Touji's friend interjected at this point: "…did you hear the rumor about the transferee?"

"Transferee? What transferee?"

"That one over there!" The well-informed bestacled boy subtly gestured his friend towards a silent boy who was sitting at his desk two rows away from theirs.

And truthfully, Touji really couldn't remember having seen the back of this particular head anywhere before – It looked fairly non-threatening, actually.

"He transferred to our school while you were away." The boy with the camcorder explained.

"So what? Wouldn't that make him a bit too late to be our serial killer?" Touji retorted, apparently not taking this all too seriously.

"Well that's true, but think. He arrived right after the robot battle! Don't you think that's totally suspicious?"

Before the two had any chance to finish their conversation, the door opened up again, which even Shinji didn't fail to notice, headphones or no.

It was a short, elderly man with thick dark-rimmed glasses – the teacher.

"Rise! Bow! Sit down!"

* * *

><p>What had once begun as an ordinary, innocent math class soon took the same path south that many others had taken before it as the old teacher had again managed to somehow derail the topic to once again bore the students with yet another endless lecture about Second Impact.<p>

If this were a history lesson, it may still have been somewhat understandable, but this old geezer never seemed to waste an excuse to begin spamming the class with more of his anecdotes, regardless of what subject he was supposed to be teaching, even if it was something like a math problem just happening to have the number '2000' as a solution.

It was inevitably followed by the same old balderdash they'd all heard a thousand times, about that one fateful meteor, the tilting of earth's axis, the following weather anomalies and wars, the state of the oceans, and so on…

Shinji had spent most of that lecture staring unhappily at the air as he had long since despaired over the math problem on his laptop's screen.

He was all the more surprised when, all of a sudden, a shining icon on said screen informed him that he had just received a message on the internal school network.

Shinji was unable to explain this. Until now, he had barely spoken to anyone here and couldn't understand how someone would possibly go through the trouble of writing him a message.

Hungering for the first bite of attention that he'd been given in a very long time, he swiftly pressed the keys to get the message displayed to him as quickly as possible.

"Is it true that you're that robot's pilot? Y/N?"

Shinji's eyes widened.

How could they possibly know that?

Exited, he took a look around the classroom – a smiling girl from in the back of the classroom waved to him. The one next to her began typing.

"It's true, isn't it? Y/N?"

Shinji wondered.

He wasn't sure if he was actually allowed to say that, but…

That was the first time that others around his age had ever shown interest in him, and if he were to say 'no' right now…

Of course, that was only because of the evangelion and not really because of _him_, but this might just be the very best that a loser like him could possibly attain…

But was it really right to take advantage of his position like this…?

"Yes." Shinji typed, quickly pressing the 'enter' key before he'd have any time to change his mind and resist the temptation after all.

A collective "WHAT?!" echoed through the classroom, some of the girls just flat out jumped out of their chairs.

Ironically, the old teacher seemed to be the one to take the least note of the emergent ruckus, and the class representative's attempts to enthuse her peers about the concept of discipline were completely fruitless, not counting the few cries of "You're such a killjoy!" that it earned her.

Aside from Ayanami, who hadn't shown any real reaction and kept looking out of the window, hardly anyone had remained on their seats – instead, they had formed a thick knot of students centered on the quite overwhelmed EVA-pilot.

"Uhm… er…"

"Hey, how were you chosen?" one girl asked.

"Did you have to take some sort of test?"

"Weren't you afraid?"

"What does the cockpit look like?"

Shinji was mostly preoccupied with backing off slightly whenever someone came remotely close and struggled to even react to the many questions. He wasn't used to being the center of attention and simply didn't know how to handle any of this.

"Uh, I… I… I'm not sure if I'm even allowed to talk about it…" he hesitantly scrambled together.

"Does that robot have a name?"

"I-I'm not really sure, but everyone calls it 'EVA' or 'Unit One'…"

"EVA?"

Aida Kensuke, now sans camcorder, was one of the few to have remained on their seats. The foothills of the crowd almost reached his seat. Instead of participating, he adjusted his glasses in suspicion and listened from afar to the transferee's bumbling tattle – and then, he began to write down every single word.

"And what's its secret trump card?" asked a boy for a change.

"It… It's got that… knife-thing with, uh, vibrations and stuff, like… ultrasound or something…"

"This is great! He's really the pride of our school, isn't he?"

"Just how awesome _is_ this!"

By the time the school bell announced the end of the term, the teacher still hadn't finished his ramblings and was surprised to find that no one had been listening to him in a very long time.

"Rise! Bow! …C'mon, at least do it properly at the end!"

Undisturbed by teacher, school bell or class representative, Shinji's little interview went on and on.

But that wasn't to say that his classmates only held feelings of awe for the Third Child – Suzuhara Touji, in particular, appeared significantly less than pleased…

* * *

><p>WHAM.<p>

The fist hit hard, dead on target and without any sort of remorse.

Shinji was thrown to the ground like a piece of paper blown away by the wind –

Effortlessly.

Suzuhara Touji's fist was still shaking, as if some of the anger he had just converted into kinetic energy and released into the environment were still sticking to it.

To be frank, he was extremely pissed off that the person who had nearly murdered his poor little sister actually had the audacity to flaunt it, and one simple punch was hardly enough to discharge the wrath that had accumulated over the past few weeks where had had been forced to see his usually so energetic, lively little sister tied to the white sheets of a hospital bed.

"Sorry, dude, I certainly don't welcome every transferee like this, but I couldn't be satisfied until I'd kicked your ass!" came his halfhearted apology, before he turned around, leaving the young Ikari lying on the ground like some used tissue.

Which was pretty much what he felt like right now.

Everyone would be grateful, his ass! Shinji would laugh out loud if he didn't feel like bawling. _He'_d be grateful if he wasn't beaten up for his trouble…

Touji's four-eyed buddy – Aida Kensuke? – hadn't been able to follow his friend fast enough to deter him, but unlike his friend, didn't think it beneath him to actually lower himself to Shinji's face.

He may have been smiling, but it might as well have been a smirk of contempt, and considering that not even his own father seemed to be able to think of a reason to be friendly with him, the latter looked a lot more realistic to him.

But he was mistaken: "Please don't blame him. His little sister was hurt in the battle. Or well, at least that's his excuse."

He stood up straight and followed his friend.

Some people might have put Kensuke's name on the list of potential friends after this, since he appeared to be sympathetic to Shinji despite being associated with Touji instead of participating in the bullying out of dumb herd instinct, but Shinji's inner reaction to these words was restricted to feeling conned.

These guys had it easy.

It's not like Shinji has _asked_ to be squeezed into the Entry Plug – He hadn't wanted any of this, either. Exactly, he had been forced. Blackmailed in the most despicable manner. All but shanghaied!

No one would ever have shown him any interest gain if he hadn't agreed to it…

For most of the battle, he hadn't even been _capable _to think of things like collateral damage.

It wasn't as if he hadn't spent the night afterwards in a hospital bed himself, not to speak of those horrible experiences he had been forced to make and had yet to fully process.

"Do you really think…" Shinji started, tentative at first, then more and more intense "…that I'm that thing's pilot of my own free will?"

With that, he had crossed the line.

No, not quite. He had danced back and forth on it to a conga beat, told the line to go fuck itself, got its mother pregnant and aborted the resulting baby.

After everything else, that guy was actually trying to deny his responsibility!

Without thinking a second time, Touji brusquely showed his friend aside, picked Shinji up from the ground like a piece of garbage and threw him right back onto the ground with one last, fulminant punch.

Shinji didn't even bother to sit back up or even wipe the blood off his lips.

The dirt surrounding him was probably just good enough for something like him.

Perhaps he deserved lo lie down here after all.

His lips still bloody, his arm used to half-heartedly shield his eyes from the sun, he expressionlessly looked up to the azure sky, and wished in some corner of his dented soul that some merciful deity might throw some meteor or perhaps a wayward satellite down from the skies, so it could shatter his body and carry him all the way up there, away from this world full of classmates who hated him, EVAs that terrified him and a father who didn't care if he lived or died.

The bleeding on his lips had stopped surprisingly fast, but they were still swollen.

The metallic taste of his own blood still stuck to the inside of his mouth, and Shinji found himself wondering how he even knew what "metallic" was supposed to be if he's never actually put any metal into his mouth.

Shinji didn't come to finish that deliberation as something happened to block his view of the sky in that exact moment.

No satellite, not the meteor he had hoped for, but something of exactly the same color as the canopy concealed behind it – the hair of Ayanami Rei, as he concluded when he slightly tilted his head to get a better look.

He hadn't heard her coming at all.

It was as if she had only just materialized at his side like some ghostly apparition, in her school uniform and her bandages, with a gentle breeze playing with her nineties-style-pageboy cut, still white and fragile like porcelain, looking down at him with these inhuman red eyes.

He hastily wiped the blood of his face. Somehow, he didn't want her to see him like this, in all his wretched glory.

"There is… another emergency." She spoke, barely audible.

"I will… be going ahead."

* * *

><p>(1) In regards to Q, I'm going to say that what you're gonna see here will look more like what we saw in the original trailer from 2.0 the original series, for various reasons: a) because that was my original plan, b) because I want to comment on the original series as well and the two storylines have grown so widely apart that my best efforts can't blend them anymore and c) because I haven't quite processed Q yet. I will, however, probably use bits and pieces from it, and I'm thinking (still uncertainly, but I feel like I need this out of my system at some point – I feel like I must'n run away from it, in a sense) about inserting the plot of Q at a later point (those "in the know" may already suspect where), but if I ever do, there will, of course, be an explicit spoiler warning. In any case, it's still far away so you can safely keep reading without getting spoiled - Even in the original German version of this, I'm not even past the action arc yet (I _have_ lengthened it significantly, though. I'd say the fanfic as a whole is 31% complete so far, with about 8% existing in english.)

(2) Sorry that it took so long – but I guess you can't have honors like memetic status, discussion in forums or a TV-tropes article unless you publish stuff in English so yeah… I should get back to work.

(3) So, what about that new emergency and how will our protagonist handle his first proper combat experience? Find out in the next chapter: 08: [Toy Soldier]


	9. 08: Toy Soldier

**08: [Toy Soldier]**

* * *

><p><em>You say<em>

_You're not gonna fight,_

_'Cause no one will fight for you_

_And you think_

_There's not enough love_

_And no one to give it to_

_And you're sure_

_You've hurt for so long,_

_You've got nothing left to lose_

_So you say_

_You're not gonna fight_

_'Cause no one will fight for you_

_You say_

_The weight of the world_

_Has kept you from letting go_

_And you think_

_Compassion's a flaw_

_And you'll never let it show_

_And you're sure_

_You've hurt in a way_

_That no one will ever know_

_But some day_

_The weight of the world_

_Will give you the strength to go_

_Hold on,_

_The weight of the world_

_Will give you the strength to go_

_So hold on_

_The weight of the world_

_Will give you the strength to go_

_So hold on_

_The weight of the world_

_Will give you the strength to go_

_Just hold on,_

_The weight of the world_

_Will give you the strength to go_

_-Linkin Park,'Robot Boy'_

* * *

><p><strong>Excerpt from the personal diary of Horaki Hikari:<strong>

"Since we had been doing evacuation drills for years, this was almost an everyday occurrence to us – I don't think we really realized the situation we were in. The boys were all being noisy and horsing around like we were on some sort of road trip, but we girls weren't afraid either."

* * *

><p>Central Dogma was already brimming with activity.<p>

Before the actual battle could even begin, they were left with a very short time frame to evacuate the civilian population, move the central complexes down to the geofront, informing various authorities and activating the city's intercept systems.

The reason for all this was currently floating across the landscape, and, by extension, the monitors of NERV HQ, still a good distance away from the capital:

The next messenger had arrived, a longish, salmon-colored being whose clunky body that, despite her apparent heaviness, floated effortlessly over the ground.

Her head, a massive chunk of flesh distantly resembling the head of a squid or an octopus had a spot on each of its sides that may have been mistaken for eyes on first glance.

Those peculiar spots were white at the edges, but their middles displayed an almost uncanny glow reminiscent of the colors of a flickering flame.

But whatever purpose those markings may serve, the angel's actual eyes were in her face which much like that of her predecessor's, resembled the mask of a medieval plague-doctor.

Another similarity was the deep red core, which she, too, had embedded between her ribs, with the difference that this specimen had notably more of them, some of which wiggled about like insect legs.

The messenger also possessed two misshapen, rudimentary-looking protrusions that could be equated with arms – That the 'hands', if those shapeless lumps of flesh qualified for that appellation, appeared to be folded for prayer as she soared above the scenery, was no mere given of her anatomy or a position taken for comfort, but a deliberate, defiant taunt, a declaration of intent, an open, pompous gesture of ridicule that the massive mountain of meat indulged in as she majestically marched across the skies.

She was showing the Lillim beneath her for what exact purpose she had left the red waters of the ocean: To _serve._

And the Lillim knew exactly, what this service encompassed, what it consisted of.

They knew that she would wash them off the surface of this planet like nothing more than a particularly persistent stain of dirt, to finally claim the Promised Land for her own kind after such a long, long time.

Unlike her predecessor, Shamshel, the angel of the day, did not come as a pioneer, but as a conqueror.

Her calls were still heard by the entity just the same, but she didn't do more than look up, directly at her right through all those many buildings between them, briefly acknowledge Shamshel's presence and then proceed to mind her own business, carrying the naked male corpse she had thrown over her shoulder, carrying it with ease despite her seemingly petite build through the already evacuated fortress city.

To worry because of Adam's pitiful spawn was only giving them more credit than they were due.

Now, it remained to be mentioned that while the corpse that the blue-haired woman was carrying was nude, the entity herself was not. Even with the use of multiple belts, she had only been able to fasten the far too loose, far too long trousers in a very haphazard manner; Her victim's shirt, which she had also taken, didn't fit all too well either and it didn't seem to have occurred to her to close it, baring the space between her breasts and a varying fraction of the mammaries themselves, depending on her posture.

The long, blue hair was messily stuffed into bonnet, with various strands sticking out.

The entity was beginning to learn.

Obviously, the personnel in central dogma were far less relaxed about the angel's arrival.

This was the second deployment, and not only for their pilot – last time, they had been caught off their guards only to be saved by an unpredictable freak accident, but this next trial would prove whether this organization and its facilities could live up to their all-but trivial task.

Considering the stakes left no more consideration for the circumstances that almost everyone here was a beginner.

Not even if the beginners in question were fourteen year-olds on top of that.

"…and of course, the fifth angel has to turn up just when Commander Ikari is away on a business trip… I had expected that we'd have more time…"

"The last one left us fifteen years to prepare…" Hyuuga agreed.

"This time, there were only three weeks of respite."

"They never think about our circumstances, don't they?" Misato commented. "That's exactly the sort of bastards that we women hate the most!"

In the meantime, the images on the various screens followed the angel as the many ordnances of the fortress city emptied themselves into her direction – As expected, to little avail.

"That's just a waste of tax money." Fuyutsuki opined.

"Economic interests." Misato concluded. "I'd bet that someone would get into trouble if we don't waste enough ammunition."

Meanwhile, Aoba had finished the call he'd just taken.

"The government demands that we deploy an Evangelion again."

"They're annoying!" Misato complained. "As if we need their approval for that."

* * *

><p>By now, the civilians were, without exception, in safe bunkers.<p>

Including two certain boys.

Not, that they were particularly happy about it – At least Kensuke, who was fiddling with his camcorder's antenna while eying its small screen disappointedly, seemed rather bummed that he wasn't somewhere else right now.

"Cripes!" he complained, holding the camcorder in front of his friend's face so he could see as well. Said friend had already taken off his shoes, tied them together by the laces and hung them over his neck.

"Let me guess: Just tickers and letters on the screen, again?" Touji asked, knowing his sidekick well enough to tell that just from his expression without having to glance at the small screen first.

"They've issued a press embargo." Kensuke muttered. "We civilians are being kept in the dark once again. For once, something interesting actually _happens_, and we're _missing_ it as we speak!"

* * *

><p>Someone who certainly wasn't going to miss anything at all was Shinji, who had already put on his plugsuit and boarded his EVA.<p>

Shinji suffered the filling of the entryplug and the colorfull lights upon activation without a sound, barely registering how his mind opened itself to the Evangelion.

Once again, the asked himself his usual questions, deep in thought: What was he actually doing here? Why was he even piloting this thing?

His father wasn't even here to watch him…

He never had any real reasons to do this… by now, he even had solid reasons _not_ to do it.

For once, he wouldn't get beaten up for it anymore.

But to get out of here this late, he'd have to open his mouth and say it… but then, everyone would try to convince him and they would probably hate him even more than they probably already did…

* * *

><p>At that same moment, the reason for the young pilot's discontentment was occupied with staring at the air, positively looking somewhat pensive.<p>

While he didn't look the part, Suzuhara Touji had always possessed a very strong sense of justice, which was also why he couldn't suffer the guy who did those things to his sister getting off scot free.

But that was when he had been seething with anger, and in part, frustrated with his own inability to help his sister in any significant way.

Now that he had his steam had been vented off and the passage of time had given him some time to cool off, however, his head was clear again and as far as he made his thoughts wander, they always kept circling back to that pitiful image of the transferee beaten to the ground, not even attempting to resist in any way as Touji had generously wiped the floor with him.

The shockwaves coming through from the surface didn't make it any better, either – at least, judging by his use of that half-whispered tone usually reserves for planning and conspiracy, they seemed to have given Kensuke some sort of stupid idea: "Hey, you got a moment? I have something to talk to you about…"

"So what's the deal?" Touji replied.

"It's confidential." the military otaku whispered.

Touji, who already knew from experience what he was expected to do whenever the need for such a 'confidential' conversation should arrive, (It was something like a 'secret code word' between the two of them, or at least, that's what Kensuke liked to call it) just grinned, confirmed that he'd understood and went to look for the class representative who was, a few picnic blankets to the left, engaged in a conversation with another girl.

"Hey, class rep!" he called out casually, trying to grab the supposed authority figure's attention.

"What's the matter?"

"I gotta take a leak. And Kensuke here, too."

"What, _now_?" Hikari retorted in disgust, eying them like a pair of naughty kindergarteners. "Alright, but hurry up, will you?"

And so, Touji and Kensuke got to continue their conversation in the peace and quiet of a room full of urinals, and, now that they were here anyway, took the opportunity to empty their bladders.

"So, what's the matter?"

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance! I can't possibly miss this!"

"What? The battle up there? Kensuke… You can't be serious…"

"Of course! Who knows just when the enemy will strike the next time? Even you can't tell me that you don't want to see a proper battle with your own eyes, at least once! This may be our only chance…

Help me to break the gates open!"

"Kensuke, this is dangerous…"

"No one knows whether we're safe _here_, so we might as well go up there!"

"You Dummy. What do you think NERV is for?"

"Yeah, but think! What's NERVs most important weapon? The transfee's robot! Last time, he protected us, but you hit him. Twice, at that. What if he no longer feels like piloting that robot? We'd all be goners. It's practically your moral duty to go out there and cheer him on!"

Kensuke. That sneaky bastard.

By now, he knew very well what exact buttons he had to press with Touji, and he wasn't even embarrassed to resort to dirty tricks like this one.

"Alright, alright! I'm coming. I know you well enough to know that you won't shut up until you get what you want…"

The military geek's answer consisted solely of a silent, knowing smile.

* * *

><p>"So, Shinji-kun, are you ready?" Misato asked over the intercom.<p>

"Yeah…" Shinji replied, toneless like an automaton.

In some corner of his mind, he asked himself if it was even _possible_ to be ready for something like this.

As far as he could tell, he was, at least, properly connected to the Evangelion. There was some sort of 'data flow' taking place, he could practically feel his own nervouness seeping into the violet fiend, and there was something flowing back, as well.

Presumably, his orders would take that same route – and soon, the pain as well, as much as he tried not to think of that yet.

"Remember your training. Just aim for the core, and fire at it as much and as quickly as you can." Dr. Akagi explained one last time.

And by then, it was already beginning; all parties involved were taking their places.

Misato gave the launch order, the angel unfolded her arms and brought herself into an upright position, revealing her bizarre thorax with its wriggling ribs and parts of her exposed spine. Her hands, too, little more than roughly triangular clumps, turned to move into what the angel probably defined as her 'battle formation', proudly displaying her form's full height like a peacock brandishing its tail feathers.

Her head, however, stayed horizontal, possibly due to the placement of its sensory organs.

In the meantime, Touji and Kensuke has successfully escaped their shelter and were running up some large stairs that were carved into the mountainside leading to a small shrine at the top of the mountain under which the shelter had been built, hoping to get a better view from there.

Inseparable from Kensuke was, of course, his camcorder, which he pointed at the battlefield the very moment he reached the top, zooming past the smaller of the city's skyscrapers which, unlike their taller cousins, had not been retracted to safety.

Touji was only one step behind him, incredulously eying the plump, alien creature before them.

It looked like some surrealist painter's attempt to sketch a crossbreed between a dildo and a giant squid.

Until now, he had only _heard _about these beings and their unparalleled destructive force, but this was the first time seeing one with his own eyes.

Conversely, Kensuke didn't seem shocked at all, but brimming with excitement.

Of course. After all, these battles had yet to get one of _his_ relatives flattened.

"This is the moment I've been waiting for all of my life!" he exclaimed, fevered. "There! It's coming to the surface! Any moment now!"

And sure enough, it did come.

Somewhere roughly in the direction Kensuke had pointed his trusted his electronic gadget towards, an entire building started moving, parts of it began sliding sideways and in the end, a whole wall got pulled upwards and folded together like a giant sun-blind, revealing, just as Kensuke predicted, Evangelion Unit 01, or more precisely, the spot where it soon emerged from the ground.

Touji secretly wondered just how his nerdish friend was always so very well informed.

But then, his attention was drawn by the purple colossus as its last lock bolts were released.

"There it is!" Kensuke commented, stating the obvious while he was marveling at the EVA through his camcorder.

At that Moment, the person actually piloting the humanoid war machine was facing fairly different worries;

The last battle, and with it, the way he had helplessly stumbled before the enemy's feet was still fresh in his memory.

He may have had some training in the meantime, but none of that changed that he was stuck in a goddamn life-and-death battle, and that no one was coming to help him if he should fail.

And failing appeared to be the one single thing he was honestly good at.

Feeling his panic rising, he clung to the few words of guidance he had been left with by the people who had stuffed him into this thing in the first place.

"Hang in there, Shinji-kun." They had said.

"Remember your training, Shinji-kun." They had said.

Yes, exactly, the training, the training…

He did not think that those few simulations had been enough to prepare an absolute good-for-nothing like himself for a proper battle, but his training contained orders.

Clear instructions he could follow, simple actions he could execute.

He just had to aim for that red thingamabob in the middle and pull the trigger, right?

The EVA was even supposed to have a computerized route guidance system…

Aim for the center of the target and pull the trigger.

"Aim for the center of the target… and pull the trigger…"

"Aim for the center of the target… and pull the trigger…"

"Aim for the center of the target… and pull the trigger…"

"Aim for the center of the target… and pull the trigger…"

After repeating those words to himself again and again, as if to ascertain their meaning, he jumped out of his cover and, accelerated by mortal fear, aimed his gun directly at the red monster.

He immediately began shooting as fast as his fingers let him, but some unwritten law of nature seemed to dictate that Ikari Shinji was not allowed to get anything right.

"You're providing the angel cover with all that smoke, you idiot!" he heard Misato scolding him over the intercom. But Shinji did not stop. He simply didn't know _what else_ he could do right now. It was the only accessible tactic his brain had to offer after any higher thinking processes had been brought to a grinding halt by his paralyzing fear.

He fired, fired and fired, shooting bullets huge enough for their rapidly dropping shells to smash cars, resorting to what video game enthusiast might refer to as the classic spray-and-pray-maneuver.

Except… eventually, his ammunition ran out.

Shinji gave his breathing some time to normalize and eyed the wall of smoke with mixed expectations, waiting for it to dissipate so he could see whether that thing was defeated or not – but he didn't have to wait that long to find out.

Of all sudden, he saw something speeding out of the smolder – It looked like some sort of whip, actually, two of those, but their glow bore some resemblance to Star Wars-style light sabers.

Whatever it was, since actually ducking would have required a certain measure of coordination and conscious thought for an unathletic person such as himself, Shinji's ensuing movement was closer to letting himself, or rather, the Evangelion, (he always had to remind himself to separate that) fall backwards against gravity, a spur-of-the-moment, panic-driven reaction that probably saved his life – The building he had just been standing next to was now neatly cut in half.

He could feel the vibrations as the upper half came crushing down.

"What the… That guy already lost!" Touji commented back at his lookout point, still not really able or willing to summon up any sympathy for his new classmate. Kensuke, who had a somewhat different view of things, i.e., was rooting for Shinji, just replied that he was bound to stand up again.

But it wasn't that easy.

The pilot of EVA 01 barely took notice of Misato's order to get the replacement rifle or its emergence from one of the nearby buildings.

That huge, gigantic monster… had just barely failed to kill him.

And here he was, once again, lying completely defenseless before the (this time purely proverbial) feet of the enemy.

Shinji couldn't even pull himself together far enough to properly grip the control yokes. His hands were trembling.

Ah, to hell with that, _all_ of him was trembling.

Not even Misato's continuous inquiries managed to get through to the fear-stricken boy.

They had just stuffed him into some huge… thing and expected him to fight a ginormous monster with laser… knive… whip… things…

That hadn't been part of his training.

He was completely helpless, unable to even form one single clear thought.

Accordingly, EVA 01 didn't budge a single millimeter from where it was.

"Holy shit, looks like being punched in the face affected him more than I thought." Kensuke remarked with feigned nonchalance, yet another step in his insidious plot to make Touji regret his earlier actions.

He hated it when Kensuke pulled employed that sort of psychological warfare – especially when he was armed with the truth. "Oh, just shut up!" Touji snapped, both at Kensuke and the imaginary little Disney-angel on his right shoulder.

At that same moment, Shinji was utterly incapable of doing anything else than to helplessly stare up at the angel as she erected herself before him, almost playfully swinging her light whips around, boisterous like a huge, fat cat toying with her prey.

….THIS…..IS…TOO….EASY….

This was followed with an oscillation-like fluctuation in her AT-Field that Shinji could barely withstand or neutralize – He had yet to learn how to properly use his own, he was closer to passively asking something within the beast he was sitting in to take care of it in his stead than he was to actively controlling it himself.

The messenger briefly made the strength and intensity of her own flare up; It was not like she could hold that higher level for extended periods of time, but rather a gesture of showing off, a form of ridicule, perhaps her equivalent of laughter.

All this happened in a timeframe too short for Shinji to properly process or interpret those sensations, he just felt yet another sudden wave of terror and intimidation washing over him.

Finally, the grand huntress decided to finish her prey and stove to sever the source of its life, but Shinji managed to jump to the side at the last second, unable to explain that with anything other than the adrenaline or the EVAs superhuman strength.

But his escape did not bother the massive red creature in the slightest; her enemy was just running from her, unable to even scramble to his shaky feet.

She was almost beginning to enjoy this.

How could her predecessor possibly have fallen to this incomplete, twisted creature?

….TOO…EASY….

Shinji managed another dodge, narrowly escaping oblivion, but it was no use –

That thing kept following him faster and faster, advancing by the second, coming closer and closer, shredding the tall buildings around him left and right like they were nothing but toothpicks.

Snip! Snap! Snippety snip!

There was not even time to even _think_ of counterattacking.

All he could do was run away, always a hair's breadth away from losing his life.

He managed to find temporary shelter behind a front of somewhat sturdier buildings, only to be forced to conclude, to his utmost shock, that his pursuer had hacked his power cable in twain.

The clock was already ticking.

He didn't even have as much as five minutes left to come up with some sort of strategy to fight back or at least think of his next hiding place, but before he got the chance to do either, he was forced to realize that his enemy had already finished mowing down all the buildings between herself and her adversary.

The instant he noticed the tentacle constricting around his foot, he was already flying through the air.

…..SUCH….. A….DODDLE…..

Exactly. The angel, still certain of her victory, gleefully enacting her dominance over her prey by making it her plaything, spontaneously decided to try herself at the discipline of EVA-throwing, hurling unit one all across the landscape.

He didn't think that anything in this world would still be able to trump all the abstruse things that had happened to him until now, and yet, he had to concede that this was by far the craziest of them all.

He probably would have laughed out loud if he wasn't busy screaming his lungs out because he was, y'know, BEING CATAPULTED SEVERAL KILOMETERS THROUGH THE AIR.

EVA 01 hammered down on the mountain like a stone, the force of the impact was simply colossal and flooded the boy's nervous system with pain.

"Shinji-kun? Shinji-kun? Are you all right? _Say_ something!"

It was no use.

Even Misato could see that. "Damage report!"

"-Nothing mayor. He can do it."

Yes, maybe he would still have been able to defeat the angel without further ado, if it wasn't for that one, tiny little detail.

Or rather, _two_ details, pretty much the first thing he noticed once he had picked himself together enough to raise his head and check his surroundings.

There, directly between the Evangelion's purple fingers that had avoided smashing them by chance alone, they stood, quaking with fear, trembling with tears in their eyes.

The two boys from earlier.

Aida Kensuke and Suzuhara Touji.

The kind boy with the camcorder and… the one who beat him up.

The one whose younger sister had nearly been killed because of Shinji's uselessness.

Okay. The universe _had_ to be out of ideas for absurd coincidences by _now_, at least. The two looked so tiny compared to the Evangelion, and the sheer thought that he could squash them like insects with but a single, wrong move pumped pure ice through his veins.

And that was the _least_ of his worries – the angel had caught up to him and he could see her readying her laser tentacles – normally he would jump away now, but he couldn't risk to send those through whirling through the air, or worse, crush them.

There was no way he could possibly go on living with that kind of guilt…

So, he made a desperate move.

He himself couldn't say how he came up with it, but while he couldn't dodge those things, they had to be solid to a degree and did not cut things by default; after all, he had been thrown with them.

Nah, when he really thought about it in hindsight, he had to admit that he had been acting on the simple, primal instinct to keep the dangerous things away from his face.

It was dumb luck that his hands weren't shredded to minced meat right there and then, and now, they were on the best way to a promising career as barbecue.

Those light whips weren't something one could touch just like that – they were, after all, brimming with energy, as demanded by their purpose.

Shinji felt like he was touching the molten core of the earth, if not the fires of hell; And those whips were _strong_, pressing against his own hands and burning them simultaneously.

All he could do was to keep holding on without a single clue of how he could possibly escape this terrible situation.

Just the pain, that torrid, horrific pain that he could only bear with his teeth firmly clenched, and that wasn't even the worst of it; Just any moment now, he could die, or worse, kill someone!

It was so dreadful, so horrendous, fear like he'd never known before. What should he do; what should he do, just what should he do…

"Why doesn't he just stand up and fight back?"

"Because _we're_ here, don't you get it?" Kensuke shouted, dropping the subtile methods in the face of the dire situation and saying what he really thought instead: "…He can't move freely because he doesn't want to flatten us! He's trying to protect us!"

Then, the heavens opened up and out came the light of salvation, clad in Misato's voice over the intercom. She could no longer stand to watch this and the pressure of this situation had squeezed a creative solution out of her: "Move, quickly! Let the two of them into the cockpit!"

"Captain Katsuragi! Do you really think that civillians are allowed into the entry plug without authorization?" Akagi protested.

"_I_ will authorize it."

"And you are sure that you aren't overstepping your authority there?"

"Do it."

And so, the two boys were presented with their rescue by way of a rope-ladder and a voice of the intercom that urged them to hurry up and climb inside – An order that no remotely reasonable human being would have had to be given twice.

What they found inside the entry plug, however, was not quite what they expected.

"Is that… water? M-My camera! My camera!"

But the two quickly noticed that they weren't dealing with water, if not for anything else, then because they were able to breathe it.

Descending further down, they could see the – now somewhat shaky – interface materializing before their eyes that offered them an uncomfortably close view of the monster.

And even further down, they found the transferee, sitting in some metal contraption, wearing strange, skin-tight clothing, with his teeth clenched and signs of great exertion in his face.

There were surprisingly little control devices in the cockpit. Instead, that fluid was steadily, noticeably heating up and getting into motion…

"We have abnormal synapse readings!"

"It's hardly a surprise, we have two foreign presences in the matrix, and we can't exactly isolate their nerve pulses…"

Shinji could not take this pain for much longer, the batteries would be empty at any moment and the layers of the EVA's armor were melting like ice in the sunshine, one after another.

He had to end this.

Right now.

Now that these two were here… Now that these two were watching… he couldn't _afford_ to fail.

In his desperation, Shinji yanked the angel closer to himself, only to hurtle her away by her own arms, exploiting the Evangelion's raw strength.

"Well done! Now, retreat!" Misato ordered.

But once again, the order did not reach its intended recipient.

Hesitantly, Unit One rose from the ground.

The armor on the hands had all but disintegrated, and what had come to light from beneath them bore an absurd resemblance to _normal, human hands, complete with fingernails…_

To severely burned human hands.

While Kensuke was still mourning his camcorder, Touji was reminding his new classmate that he had orders to retreat, but even he could no longer get through to him.

Most likely, Shinji himself couldn't have described just what exactly got the better of him that moment.

The ticking clock, no, the icy certainty, that an useless person like him wouldn't make it to a safe place in time, that he would just plain fail to save those two and receive even more blame for it, the unthinkable notion of turning his back to this thing to flee from her, the pain still simmering in his palms, the need to prove to these two that he wasn't a bad person, or just the bare horror that every further second inside this thing was to him.

He just knew that he wanted this unbearable situation to end already.

He wanted it to stop!

He wanted out of here!

Again, he clung to a simple sentence, this time one that had helped him before.

"I mustn't run away, I mustn't run away, I mustn't run away, imustnrunaway, imustntrunaway, imustntrunaway, imustntrunawayimustnrunawayi mustntrunaway…"

He activated the prog-knife.

And then, neither orders nor appeals to rationality could stop him.

Shinji expulsed one bloodcurdling war cry, as if he had released a piece of his damned soul through his mouth directly into the heavens, and charged the angel like a berserker, let himself slide down the mountainside with the knife in his hands and tears of pure fear in his eyes, running, because he was terrified too far out of his mind to stop, driving his knife deeply into the angel's core.

The angel's light whips impaled the Evangelion's abdomen, lacerating whatever was inside.

The pain was so intense that Shinji could not find the air to scream.

He had failed.

But he _mustn't_ fail, he couldn't afford to fail, not now, not like this…

The clock was ticking and, damn it, he had mere seconds left.

Sparks flew, the core cracked, but it still wasn't enough.

He couldn't allow himself to just slump down right now, so he tried to somehow canalize the pain into the battle, pushed at one of the control levers with both hands, pushed this knife deeper inside with every fiber of his being, while the Evangelion, the interface and his own body appeared to be falling to pieces all around him.

And then, it was over.

Finished.

The interface vanished, leaving the three boys in the darkness of the entry plug.

The fifth angel was defeated. Liquefied, like her predecessor. Only the hardened light whips remained, still embedded within the Evangelion's body.

Again, the rain of blood created a rainbow, and soon, it was joined by actual rain.

But these sounds did not even penetrate the walls of the entry plug.

Its inside was completely silent – save for Ikari Shinji's uncontrollable sobbing and whimpering.

His lament had no end, his face reddened beneath the never ending streams of tears and the snot that came with them, the pitiful, repulsing image of a thoroughly broken human being.

He just couldn't make himself stop – and Touji could no longer deny that he had done him an injustice…

* * *

><p>"But let's forget Shinji-kun and Captain Katsuragi for once… What on earth were those two boys thinking?"<p>

"They probably weren't thinking at all, Maya. They're in the middle of puberty." Akagi commented, squeezing her cigarette out against a corner of her ashtray as she directed another glance at the diagrams and numeric values on the papers held in her other hand.

"…but it's interesting that they were able to cause this much interferences without even an interface-headset – and that Shinji-kun was still able to operate the EVA regardless of that… Those two might as well be the most promising of our candidates…"

"What candidates… and for what?"

"For nothing, forget it. Let's continue with the damage evaluation…"

* * *

><p>A usual day in class II-A.<p>

The boys were goofing off, the girls were chatting, Rei was staring out of the window, where there was, for once, actually something to be seen – namely a heavy, overcast sky and the downpour falling out of it – and Kensuke was keeping himself busy with some rather… unique activity, precisely, the rendering of a 3-D-model of the most recent heavenly attacker.

There was just one thing missing…

Yes, exactly. Those goofing boys were lacking their respected war chief in their epic struggle against the organizing force of the class representative – Suzuhara Touji.

It was not that he was absent from class again, no, he was sitting on his desk.

Or rather, more like sulking over it, a condition which had become his default state for these last few days.

"It has been three days now…"

"Since we got the lecture of a lifetime?" Kensuke offered.

"No… since the transferee stopped coming to school…"

"My, my, you really _are_ stubborn. If you had apologized to him right away, you could have saved yourself three days of moping."

Touji's mood seemed rotten enough to keep him from coming up with any sort of cheeky retort.

Kensuke typed something into his laptop and then proceeded to scribble something unto a piece of paper.

"Here. I've got you the transferee's phone number. If you're worried about him, just call him."

* * *

><p>Touji <em>did<em> take the paper and retreated into the hallway where through lucky circumstance, a public phone happened to be situated relatively close to their classroom.

Glancing sideways at the paper to check again and again, Touji pressed the first few keys…

And stopped at the last one.

He could talk big, no doubt there, but an actual apology…

He did not know how to really express that.

No, Kensuke hadn't 'tenderized' him just yet.

Right now, he just wasn't… ready for this.

And thus, Shinji's new cellphone remained just as unused as before.

* * *

><p>(1) The angel ordinals will follow Rebuild <em>at first<em>, mainly because I couldn't imagine a world without Mari vs. Tunnel angel, but this will include classic angels that weren't in Rebuild, extracanonical angels and perhaps even creations of my own. As you have seen, I've used Shamshel's Rebuild-Design because I think it looks creepier. You can also expect Rebuild!Ramiel, but this isn't a general rule. I much prefer Bardiel as a white slime thing and I liked it when the dummy plug was solid red.

(2) The designer of Shamshel apparently considered her female and depicted her as such in a comic strip. Yes. I know. My first guess would've been "male", too, I actually had to go back and correct this chapter when I found out.

(3) So yeah, OUCH. The battle is won, but at what price? What adverse effects will this horrible trauma have on the tender soul of unfortunate protagonist? Find out in the next Chapter, 09: [So Close]


	10. 09: Fugue

**09: [Fugue]**

* * *

><p><em>I've spent so much time<em>

_throwing rocks at your window_

_That I never even knocked_

_on the front door_

_I walk by statues_

_never even made one chip_

_but if i could leave a mark on the monument of the heart_

_I just might lay myself down_

_with little more hope than I had_

_the last day_

_Wait a time_

_and spare these lies_

_we tell ourselves_

_These days have come and gone_

_But this time is sweeter than honey_

_Evanescence, 'So Close'_

* * *

><p><strong>Excerpt from the second interim-report about the first battle in Neo-Tokyo-3 by the leader of the operations division and thus, the person responsible for the operation, Captain Katsuragi Misato: <strong>_"Even if we were victorious, lots of damage was caused, and for us from the operations division, this battle was a trial that exposed many miscalculations and showed us that there is still much to improve. Regardless, it is to be commended that Ikari Shinji, a completely untrained, unprepared boy succeeded in carrying out the operation, no, that he even agreed to participate in it."_

* * *

><p>In the time the NERV personnel needed to reach the battlefield, retrieve the EVA, relocate it onto a transportation framework, remove the Entry Plug and open it as the last step just before transporting it back to HQ, Ikari Shinji had been weeping incessantly.<p>

Neither Touji nor Kensuke dared to address him in that state, even less after having witnessed the suffering he had just gone through with their very own eyes.

Shinji didn't even release himself from his position, keeping his hands and arms pressed against the control lever and his head hanging in between them.

He had no strength left to move from this spot, let alone subject himself to the judgment of his classmates or even look them in the eyes.

All he could do was cry.

Sure, his sobs of lament got quieter over time, but when the NERV technicians opened the main hatch of the entry plug after it had been extracted and the bulk of the LCL had been expulsed, they still found him in that exact same posture.

However, when he was asked to come out, he rose from his seat and complied almost mechanically, wordlessly walking over to one area that had been previously encircled with curtain-like partition screens, where a short, medical checkup was to take place, right past Touji and Kensuke whose concerned looks he did not seem to register.

The two were already being expected by several security employees in black and soon marshaled somewhere different, presumably to get thoroughly chewed out.

Shinji, on the other hand, was asked by a somewhat elderly physician to sit down on an examination couch which had also been set up there and to remove his plug suit from the waist up.

He followed all instructions like a robot and wordlessly sat through the procedures.

It quickly became apparent that he had escaped completely unscathed this time – physically, that is.

After he had thus been discharged fairly fast, he passively let himself be escorted back to headquarters, flat out incapable to independently do or say anything – Any and all 'processing capacity' in his skull was far too busy with futile attempts to come to terms with the events of the last five minutes – It was hard to believe that it really had been this short.

One might as well have asked a cheap calculator to compute the exact value of pi.

Once they arrived at HQ, Shinji was left in a room with multiple showers in it – Shinji had been here before, quite often, mostly after his training, but never after a battle – the first one had left him incapable of leaving the EVA on his own two feet.

On one of the two benches which were also present in the room, he was being awaited by a pile of neatly folded clothes and a cold drink in a paper cup, complete with a straw, and the first thing he did was to take a deep gulp out of the latter to calm himself and soothe his throat after all of that panicked screaming.

After that first gulp, however, he decided to shower before anything else – less because of any thoughts that someone might be expecting him somewhere, than because of his wish to rid himself of the plug suit and the remaining LCL sticking to him as quickly as he could, since both of these things kept reminding him of the battle.

Peripherally, he wondered why in the world there were so many showers here.

Right now, both they and the closely situated, similarly large locker room were frequented by him alone. Sure, there was still Ayanami who was currently out of commission because of her injuries, but this room seemed too big for even _two_ people.

From the looks of it, he would have guessed that it had been intended for significantly more users.

But Shinji was far too enervated to think about it for all too long – Ever since he had moved to Tokyo-3, his life had ceased to make sense anyway.

Thus, he quickly shed his plug suit, occupied one of the showers and gave his body a thorough scrubbing, as if he were hoping to wash off those horrible memories along with the LCL.

That didn't quite work, but at least the hot water did him good.

After he'd rubbed himself dry with a towel that had also been provided to him, he hung it over the saloon-door-like flaps that served as entrance to the individual shower he was in and presumably to shield the user's private parts from the other occupants if this shower room should ever come to be frequented by more people than just him, and put on the clothes – among them loose black trousers and a blue t-shirt – in no particular order.

And since he hadn't been given any further orders, he just sat down on one of the benches, grabbed his drink, and waited.

For a while, he was left alone, left waiting in his silent darkness, without being subjected to further demands or expectations.

But then, the door opened, and some entered.

Shinji didn't have the heart to even look up.

"…why did you disobey my order?"

It was Misato's voice. She sounded positively cross.

Of course… of course there would be no kind words.

The organization didn't give a damn about the hell he just went through.

They had taken it for granted that he would win.

All he was to them was a glorified extension cable to rely their orders to the EVA, they expected him to function, and that was all.

"I'm sorry." He answered quietly. That was what they wanted to hear from him right now, wasn't it?

That's why she had come.

Wasn't it that what he had to say so they would be nice to him again?

"You are aware that I'm responsible for you and this operation, aren't you?"

"Yeah…"

"And this means that you have to do exactly as I tell you. Do you understand what this means?"

"Yeah…"

"So, this will never happen again?"

"Yeah…"

By then, Misato had had enough. Did that child really think that the problem would just go away if he played the poor, beleaguered victim and recited a few apologies to placate her?

"Are you sure that you're even listening to me?"

"Yeah…"

"Damnit, Shinji-kun! This isn't about you saying yes to everything, you need to _understand_!"

"Yeah… I do understand, Misato-san. But the important part is that we won, isn't it? If you need me to pilot the EVA again… just tell me…"

And now that unnerving feigned calm. That was the last thing she needed right now.

So, she marched over to where he was and leaned forward, hoping that she may have better chances at getting through to him if she was at eye level with him.

"Listen up, you may think that's it's easier to go with the flow than to take responsibility for your actions, but if you pilot the EVA with that sort of attitude, _you will die_!"

"Who cares? I don't, and I know no one else does."

The worst was that he never stopped presenting her that false, defiant smile, even when saying something like this.

"If you expected me to applaud you for your so-called heroism, you thought wrong. I won't do any such thing."

"I don't care about that." Shinji lied. "After all, I'm the only one who can pilot Unit one, right?"

That went too far.

Misato could no longer bear to look at that poorly- faked farce of resignation.

Why couldn't he just tell her to her face what the hell he had been thinking? How was she supposed to help him otherwise, heh?!

Irate, she grabbed the fourteen-year-old by the seam of his shirt and pulled him upwards, as if she wanted to force him to look her straight in the eyes.

In the process, his drink found its way to the floor – he didn't seem to have expected this.

Still, he seemed neither impressed nor intimidated.

And he still wasn't looking into her eyes.

It was simply no use.

So, she let go of him.

"Enough with this. You better go home… and rest."

It was only after the boy had left the shower room with his head hanging in defeat that Misato became fully aware of what she had just done.

She could have slapped herself right then and there – and to be honest, she did.

That boy irritated her to no end…

Of course he did, he was a fourteen-year-old teenager in the middle of puberty, no trained soldier.

A fourteen-year-old teenager who had just been through a life-or-death battle against a gigantic abomination – and then, he'd even been yelled-at for his trouble, by none other than her.

If there was a prize for counter-productiveness, she had probably just won it.

* * *

><p><strong>Excerpt from observation protocol Number 42, Subject: Code Third Child, penned by Captain Katsuragi Misato: <strong>_"Today, we were attacked by the fifth angel, completely out of the blue. It was successfully defeated and destroyed by Unit One."_

* * *

><p>"Ikari? Ikari Shinji? He only just transferred and he's already missing? Whatever, looks like he'll have to repeat this little surprise test then!"<p>

Collective moaning.

* * *

><p>Shinji was wasting away.<p>

He felt like death warmed over.

For days, he hadn't left his bed for anything but short trips to the fridge or the bathroom. For days, he hadn't ceased to stare at the ceiling, waiting for his life to start being just a little less horrible.

He didn't understand.

He didn't understand this at all.

He had done what they all asked of him, hadn't he?

He had let himself be stuffed into the EVA, even though he'd been beaten up for it, he'd fought the angel despite the mind-numbing agony he had been forced to endure.

He had even won, but apparently, that wasn't enough.

Not enough to earn himself anything resembling kind words…

But if those were beyond his reach, if he couldn't expect any sort of affection, not even from Misato, if nothing he did would please them…

Then what was he even doing here?

Right, what _was_ he doing here?

There was a door.

* * *

><p>A new morning rose over Tokyo-3.<p>

The dawning of a new day.

The dawning of a _shitty_ day.

If the intrusive ringing of her alarm clock wasn't the first thing to tell her so, then it was the distant sound of the pouring rain that convinced Misato that she would have nothing to laugh about today.

After she had shut up the troublesome clock with her right foot, which had been the closest to it of all of her limbs, she stretched herself a little and finally sat up.

It was so very apparent that she _really_ didn't feel like leaving her bed today, but it couldn't be helped.

So, she dragged herself to the bathroom, in her blue pajamas, with her hair in a state of total chaos, using one foot to scratch the other as she morosely brushed her teeth.

Her disheveled reflection wasn't exactly motivating as was the prospect of having to eat breakfast alone – for the fifth time in a row.

Ever since the incident with the fifth angel, Shinji had shut himself in his room to brood – Not that she wasn't partially to blame for this, but this had gone on long enough.

She hoped that she would at least be able to convince him to go to back to school today.

Not that her expectations were particularly high.

By now, the provisional nametag on his room's door had been replaced by a proper, metal one whose heart-shaped surface was now announcing to the world that this was 'Shin-chan's room', but 'Shin-chan' himself wasn't showing the slightest reaction to Misato's knocking.

She gave it another try, this time, accompanied by words:

"Shinji-kun, come on! Just how long do you intend to keep skipping school? You haven't left your bed for five days already!"

No reaction.

"They've even finished repairing Unit One by now, but without its pilot, all it does it catch dust uselessly! Shinji-kun!"

No, it did not look like she was achieving anything besides wasting her breath.

All right.

Maybe he was more likely to listen if she entered his room.

But when Misato opened the door, only a crack wide a first, just to check what he was doing, she found an unpleasant surprise waiting for her:

He was gone.

And not just him;

The cupboards were emptied out, his clothes were missing, much like his sparse belongings, like all sighs that anyone had ever lived in here.

He had even tidied the place up and made his bed.

The only things he'd left behind were his NERV ID-card and a little piece of paper:

'Farewell.'

_Great._ Apparently, he shared his father's enthusiasm for very short letters.

But that was beside the point.

"He ran away… Why does this even surprise me…"

Damnit.

She had to report this to headquarters.

So she hurriedly grabbed her hairbrush and organized the bird's nest on her head. Next were her clothes, which she pulled over herself at an abnormal speed – lucky for her, as it turned out when the doorbell happened to ring as soon as she had finished putting on her shirt. Hastily donning her uniform jacket on the way, she raced to the entrance of her apartment and manually pulled the door open, too worried to wait for the electronics.

"SHINJI-KUN, WHERE HAVE YOU-"

Wait. No.

Instead of revealing the missing EVA pilot, the door exposed Misato to two now understandably confused-looking boys that somehow looked vaguely familiar to her.

The one on the left was notably taller than his buddy, was wearing a dark blue tracksuit and had brown eyes, relatively tan skin and close-cropped black hair that had been molded into a modern-looking style, possibly with the aid of hair gel.

His companion had a somewhat lighter complexion, freckles, longer, light brown hair and a pair of glasses on his roundish-looking nose.

Unlike his friend, he was present in his uniform.

The taller of the two seemed somewhat… impressed.

"F-Forgive us, Miss…!" Much more wouldn't leave his lips.

But that was apparently why he'd brought his friend: "We're Aida and Suzuhara."

"Aida-kun and… Suzuhara-kun?"

"Yes, uh, I'm Suzuhara." Touji added to prevent confusion in advance.

"Hey, wait…" Misato finally remembered where exactly she'd seen those faces before: "Weren't you the two who were in the entry plug with Shinji-kun?"

"Yes-"

"Yes and we're very sorry."

"We're here because-"

"We're here because Ikari-kun hasn't come to school ever since." Touji finished, continuously taking the words out of Kensuke's mouth.

"We got worried and wanted to check if he's all right."

"Yeah, yes he is." Misato lied with the best sugar-doll-smile she could muster at the moment. "He's just really busy with his pilot training at the moment."

"Yeah, we get it."

"Here's the mountain of paper that's been accumulating on his desk…" Kensuke added, handing Misato the printouts in question.

"That's very kind of you."

"Okay, we'll be going then." Touji stated.

"Please say hi to Ikari-kun for us!" Kensuke amended.

"I will! See you soon!"

Misato waved goodbye and closed the door.

She feared that her act had been rather transparent towards the end.

But the boys' attention had been focused somewhere slightly lower than her face.

"That didn't turn out the way we expected…"

"That was one seriously hot babe…"

* * *

><p>Regardless of her temperature, Misato was, first and foremost really, really miffed.<p>

_At last_ someone was coming to visit him, someone seemed to have begun to consider him a friend, and where was he?

Right.

Up, up and away!

Exasperated, Misato turned away from the door, just to spin right back a second later and vent her frustrations through a fierce kick against that poor, innocent, pitiable door that had never done anything to harm her.

"SHINJI, YOU IDIOT!"

"…you… Idiot…"

The second time, the insult had lost its vigor.

Presumably, because he may just have gone back to school if he had still been here to meet those two…

* * *

><p><em>"Today was another rainy day, the last four days have been one single downpour. Even the analysis of the angel's remains had to be postponed because of this. <em>

_Other than that, there is nothing more to report today."_

* * *

><p>At first, the tram had seemed to be the fastest way to get as far away as possible, but he hadn't thought much further than that.<p>

It wasn't as if he had any sort of destination he wanted to reach.

He was drifting like a ship that had been untied from the rope binding it to the port, and then left to itself and the waves.

He just sat there, with the headphones in his ears, his head hung low, immersing himself in the buckling of the tram;

His surroundings were bustling with activity, the busy conversations of an average weekday he was trying to block out.

No one took notice of the inconspicuous fourteen-year-old sitting on the bench right next to the exit, silent and alone; They all had their own business to think off, people, that accompanied them on their personal journeys.

Outside, the deluge went out without cease, and even when it did subside for a short while, it would always continue pretty soon afterwards. At times, the tram would traverse a tunnel, constantly emptying and filling with new, different people:

Schoolgirls chatting with each other, businesswomen in their blazers, students, mothers with children, either sleeping right next to them or looking out of the widow.

But none of them stayed in this wagon for particularly long, they all had a station to arrive to, a place they were awaited at, a goal to reach.

Shinji had no such place, no place to arrive at, and so, he simply didn't leave the wagon at all.

Thus, his path bit its own tail and became a circle, always going round and round and round, always following the orbital railway.

When he entered here, he had simply picked the first tram that had arrived at the station closest to Misato's apartment, but there was nothing stopping him from leaving and boarding another tram, one that would certainly lead him far, far away from here.

Nothing but the thought of finding himself alone in the darkness of the night, far away from the artificial lights of civilization or anything else to suggest a path for him to continue upon, which just scared him more the harder he thought about it.

He found the mere idea to horrifying that he turned up the volume, hoping for the music to wash it out of his skull, but what he'd feared the most about that possibility was the boundless feeling of solitude such a situation would entail… and just how was it any different from the loneliness that was plaguing him right here, right now, even here amongst all these people…?

Then again, even their numbers was steadily decreasing, since it must have been getting really, really late, more and more were leaving at every single station, and each time the tram stopped, Shinji wondered whether he, too, should leave here, yet in the end, nothing ever came of it; He simply kept listening to his music.

Track 25, Track 26, Track 25.

25, 26, 25

25, 26, 25

25, 26, 25

25, 26, 25

25, 26, 25

25, 26, 25

He thought he had found something like a home, a source of acknowledgement, but he should have expected that no one could possibly want him for his own merits.

No one could possibly want someone like him.

Someone like him who just _couldn't_ do anything right.

For every step he took forward, he always went one back.

One step forwards… and one step back.

One step forwards… and one step back.

For each step forward, another that brought him right back to where he started.

And it was getting darker and emptier around him, the people were disappearing one by one, until the crowd was reduced to a single old man who had fallen asleep under his newspaper, and in the end, even he left.

When the tram finally came to a halt, not even the wet footprints the many people had left behind had remained to keep Shinji company.

According to the automatic announcement coming from the speakers, this was the final destination.

He could no longer stay here.

Shinji raised his head, taking an upright position for what had to be the first time in ages.

"I need to get back!"

He skipped to Track 26.

One step forward…

* * *

><p>…and one step back.<p>

By the time Track 26 had finished playing, that fickle little flame of determination that had shortly flared up there had already been extinguished.

He had wanted to get back, yes, but _how_ was he supposed to get back from here?

It had barely been a month since he moved to this city, and most of that time had been spent in his room or at NERV HQ.

Of course, he could have asked someone for the way, but by the time he arrived at that thought, his motivation had already fully seeped out of him, so he kept wandering the streets aimlessly, never separating himself too far from the crowds.

He found himself in some dirty, godforsaken corner of the inner city, judging by the scraps of conversation he picked up around him, maybe even the red-light-district, but he didn't care, he just tuned up the volume of his music to he wouldn't have to listen to other people enjoying themselves while he was all alone.

With his bag as his only company, he silently waded through the forest of city lights, people and advertisements, just another shadow in a large, dark crowd at the feet of the tall, enormous buildings.

* * *

><p>He happened across a cinema that had one old, bad, cheesy movie about Second Impact running, one that just about everyone would have seen on TV already.<p>

Correspondingly few people had turned up at this ungodly hour to see it; In fact, most of the people who had found their way here didn't seem to be motivated by the movie at all: In the front row, there was a drunk sleeping off his intoxication, somewhere in the middle rows, a homeless man was snoring to himself, having apparently considered this cinema a fine shelter for the night.

Technically, Shinji himself was now homeless as well.

He, too, did not particularly care for what was flickering across the screen; He was here because you could usually buy food at cinemas, but mostly because he had simply felt like having something other than his music washing over him.

Completely apathetic, he stared forwards, not really at the screen, but simply into nothingness, until something else grabbed his attention:

A few rows in front of him, there was a couple, whispering words of love into each other's ears, covering each other in their arms and kisses, and, ultimately, beginning to have Sex.

Shinji blocked out the movie and began observing those two instead, partially disturbed, partially resenting the fact that _he_ didn't have anyone to give himself to…

* * *

><p>This was the first time that he woke up with the same funereal train of thought he'd gone to bed with still going on; It hadn't ever happened to him before that battle. Until now, his experience had always shown this gap, that interruption of his consciousness to be at least a momentary distraction, a partial reset after which the world would just continue going on.<p>

Then again, calling this "going to _bed_" was a massive overstatement, all he had was a bench in the cinema's lobby – There didn't seem to be anyone left here who could have noticed his presence – his bag as a pillow (There were things inside whose outline he could clearly feel through the fabric, but it was better than nothing) and no blanket to shield himself from the slight cool of the night.

Everything here was foreign, cold, dirty and open, the lights of the vending machines couldn't be turned off, and the toilet here had been dominated by a horrible stench; He could hardly name them all, all those little sources of discomfort, each of which may have seemed trivial, but the sum of them left him downright languished.

He was _already_ the type to have the most niggling neuroses about the smallest little things, he had little to no tolerance for _regular_ unfamiliar places, this here was straight up unbearable.

After a long, long time, he ultimately did fall into a state at least reminiscent of sleep, if only because he no longer had the strength to sustain his "wakefulness" any longer, but not before distantly wondering what it was that he had hoped to find out here.

* * *

><p>The next dawn came enveloped in a cloak of deep red.<p>

The clouds, the buildings, the landscape, it was all tinted in an all-encompassing vermillion by the rising sun.

Shinji had left his little alleyway behind and continued his erratic meandering in the outskirts of the city, finally daring to stray from the most frequented parts of the city now that it was no longer dark.

He was circling the borders of Tokyo-3, following those little dirt tracks that led him into the woods surrounding the metropolis.

Bit by bit, the colossal skyscrapers were being supplanted by sleeker, smaller buildings, many of which were still quite large Apartment buildings.

One of these many distant towers glistening in the reddish light might be Misato's apartment.

Maybe he should…

But the moment he had taken the first step into the corresponding direction, he could already hear it.

He had already noticed its beginnings on his way here, the way it was steadily getting louder and louder, but now, it was beginning to come over him like a rising storm.

This may have been a forest, but this was just too much.

This continuous buzzing, droning and chirping of the innumerable insects rang in his ears like a bizarre, alien, far too disharmonic orchestra, surging to a booming crescendo through the participation of more and more animals.

Shinji covered his ears as best as he could and ran as fast as his legs would carry him, following the street, away from the forest, away from the insects, away from the apparment buildings, just away.

* * *

><p>Most of the day was over by the time he came back to his senses.<p>

His only proof for the passage of time was the battery gauge on his cassette player which seemed a great deal emptier now – He distantly wondered where he would be when it had finally ran out.

In the end, he ended up making himself an improvised, makeshift resting place out of old, discarded cardboard boxes, somewhere in a dark alleyway otherwise populated by stay cats only, which, by virtue of bordering on a larger street lined with city lights, bars and pubs were drunk, cheery people were celebrating until the dawn brought them rest, at least wasn't silent.

When he thought that he must have hit rock bottom with last night's so-called accommodations, this cruel world must've taken it as an implicit challenge to prove him wrong – He should have known his fall into this infinite, black hole would go on and on and on, that this downward spiral would keep spinning and spinning and spinning…

He hadn't been able to find a better spot to sleep, not here, in this area that was completely foreign and opaque to him, and if he'd brought enough money with him to rent a room in a hotel, he would've done so yesterday. And even _if_ he had the cash, what should he do if someone asked him what he was doing here all alone?

Actually, he didn't have a clue how much a night in a hotel would cost – he had been standing in front of one for a while, wondering what it would be like to step inside, but the moment it seemed like someone was coming to address him, he shied away.

Even if he had been willing to explain himself, he couldn't have done it; He was lost to his leaden speechlessness.

Before coming here, he had tried a parking lot and a train station, but he had no luck – Both times, he had been found by a security guard, and he couldn't say which experience had been worse, the brusqueness and lack of empathy with which he had been thrown out of the parking deck with a few "colorful" words thrown after him, or the man from the train station, who had planned to drag him away, intending to call the police and hand him over.

He escaped the guards both times – just the initial, sudden, fast movement was enough to send him back to the battlefield, facing that colossus of red flesh, its tentacles of light snatching at him at the speed of a bullet, just one particularly loud noise, and he'd be back in EVA 01, fighting for his life –

If he tried to think of how he had left that place and wound up here, his memory gave him no answer – The only clear thought in his head had been "Away from here!", his innermost filled to the brim with the gruesome images of the battle that were bubbling up like the carbon dioxide in a bottle of coke that had been viciously kicked across the room, bursting under the sudden pressure from the inside, and you could very well imagine his mind in the role of the bottle, all, that was left were the fear, the pain and the endless tears, his complete and utter inability to cope with being immediately responsible for two other lives, for everything that might have happened…

He completely lost himself, and when he found himself again, he was here, curled up in this wretched hole.

Around him were numerous bins and bags filled with garbage; There was a nauseating stench, but he was far too worn out to search for another place to stay.

Actually, this might be exactly where he was supposed to be, what was he, if not just another piece of useless garbage that not even his own father considered worth his time.

He couldn't stop his trembling; In the silent darkness, the fear kept reverberating through his being as if some metaphysical little homunculi somewhere in his cerebral gyri had forgotten to turn it off, and the thin layers of cardboard and cloth weren't enough to keep the cold of the night from creeping into the pathetic shell of his being.

He almost couldn't believe this despair, it just wouldn't dissipate, as if something in his inner clockworks had just gotten stuck in this state, permanently crushed by the angel's tentacles and the thundering stomps of the EVA.

That battle had very much _done him_ _in_, left him hollowed out – that he had even needed this long to arrive at this conclusion, that he hadn't been able to do that until now was all proof he'd ever need of that, and of another truth he had finally arrived at: That he was afraid to have lost a part of him that he would never get back.

* * *

><p><em>"Today, we could finally see the sun again, even if it was still a mostly cloudy day. <em>

_Other than that there is nothing more worth mentioning."_

* * *

><p>A method that was much more effective at putting as many kilometers as possible between himself and Misato than simple running could ever be was, as it turned out, to simply board a bus.<p>

The particular bus that Shinji had taken eventually dropped him off somewhere in the mountains that surrounded Neo-Tokyo-3.

It might as well be the very same mountain where the battle took place more than a week ago – he no longer cared.

He just continued walking, all the way across the landscape, wherever his feet would carry him.

It was all the same to him.

He just kept marching forward, his head downcast, taking his time.

Idleness was a luxury that those without goal or purpose could very well allow themselves.

The sky was blue, the birds were chirping, but it didn't matter to him in the slightest;

Nothing really impressed him: Idyllic country roads, shining, clear lakes, enormous fields full of vibrant sunflowers.

The sun polished all of nature to shine in its brightest colors, so that one may have felt like they had just stepped into one of Van Gogh's paintings, not just because of the flowers.

But the scenery lacked the fast strokes of the brush, the menacing, washed-out elements – But Shinji's mind took care of inserting these on its own, unable to find joy even when surrounded by such splendor.

What he _did_ readily stop for were the daunting mountains of his homeland, with their woods, their terraced cliffs and their unforgiving, icy winds that chased clouds and mist past them.

Tokyo-3 could be seen from up here, where the distance alone reduced the fortress city to a small, silver spot surrounded by ancient stone that only served to demonstrate him how insignificant and small he really was.

And those same winds played with the boy's hair as his deep blue eyes scanned the scenery devoid of any hopes or expectations.

With his hair in motion, he looked more like the fragile, delicate being he really was.

Shinji silently dedicated quite some time just to standing there, right next to the abyss, on the wrong side of the fence at the very edge of the rock, where a particularly strong gust of wind or even a single, clumsy movement would be enough for him to plummet into oblivion.

He couldn't think of a single, convincing reason to keep his distance from the precipice…

(One step forward)

…but neither did he feel particularly compelled to jump.

(One step backwards)

Or maybe he was just too much of a coward to go through with it.

(So, he sat down on that very spot and remained there for what must have been half an eternity, unable to make the final step.)

* * *

><p>"He's only fourteen… Just how is he supposed to cope with having to shoulder the literal weight of the world?"<p>

"He has to. As a matter of fact, only children his age can be used as pilots for the Evangelions… Has Shinji-kun phoned you or done anything else to contact you?"

"MhMh…" Misato replied, sullenly leaning against the wall while her blonde coworker went through the First Child's examination results on the monitors before her nose, while the girl herself, currently naked save for simple, white panties and a mountain load of bandages, was being subjected to an extensive screening.

"You haven't heard from him at all?" Dr. Akagi prodded as she scribbled down something pertaining to this week's dose of Rei's medication onto a piece of paper lying right next to her mouse pad

"No, not at all. And I don't think he's ever come back, either…"

"So what do you plan to do about that?"

"Nothing at all." Misato admitted in resignation. "It's probably for the best if he doesn't return…"

"Why do you say that…?"

Misato proceeded to detail that one, fateful, and very much failed conversation between Shinji and herself.

"…and then, I realized that he's just a child. It's only natural that it's all too much for him, it's only natural that he doesn't follow our every order… We're expecting him to… _function_ however we want to, and, we _have_ to, I mean, all of our lives are at stake, but Shinji isn't an _automaton _that we can just turn on whenever we feel like it, that we expect to "perform flawlessly"… You should have seen that, just how… how _wrong_ it was…

There he goes and tells me to my face that he doesn't care whether he lives or dies… with a _smile_ on his face, but it was very apparent that he was at the end of his tether… and I hardly made it any better…"

Misato sighed.

"I see." The scientist glanced at her second monitor.

"We shouldn't ask him to do something that causes him this much pain…" Misato concluded. "It will destroy him."

"But… we _do_ need pilots."

Misato didn't quite know what to reply to this.

* * *

><p>"DADADADADADA!"<p>

"AAAAHHH"

"Captain, you're hurt!"

"Go on without me, Aida!"

"But… I can't just leave you here, Sir! I'll stay at your side!"

"That was an order!"

"OUCH!"

What might have sounded like an epic battle was the work of a single schoolboy who was playing all the roles himself, only aided by a fairly realistic plastic riffle and clothes covered in a camouflage pattern. But right now, he was allowing himself a little rest after his stunning performance of punching himself in the face.

From his point of view on the ground, it seemed as if both the steadily darkened evening sky and the orange-ish clouds travelling across it were surrounded by a frame formed by the individual spikes of the high grass surrounding him, which some of them protruding into the "picture".

However, the moment that he sat up, presumably to continue his adorable little war games in some shape or form, he became aware of a solitary boy who was wandering down a nearby dirt track.

Wait a second, that school uniform, that haircut, that posture and the ostensibly depressed state it implied…

Hadn't he seen him somewhere before?

"Hey, Ikari!"

And sure enough, the other boy stopped and turned to face Kensuke, visibly surprised.

He hadn't expected to see any familiar faces in this kind of place, much less to be called by his name – As a matter of fact, Kensuke's was the first remotely familiar face he had seen in the last two days.

* * *

><p>In the time the two boys had needed to make their way to the spot where Kensuke had pitched his tent, the night had caught up to them, along with the cold that tended to follow its every step, presenting Kensuke with a chance to demonstrate some special American-boy-scout flint stone trick to ignite a small campfire to chase the cold and the dark away.<p>

Shinji hadn't disclosed what he was doing here, but shook his head at Kensuke's question as to whether he was being expected anywhere, silently agreeing to follow the military otaku and allowing him to wrap him in his jacket.

It was only when he felt the green and brown piece of clothing covering his skin that he became aware that his arms and fingers had grown numb from the cold, having been exposed to the mountain's freezing winds in nothing but his thin, short-sleeved school uniform.

Eternal summer or not, every summer had its cooler, rainier days, and with the absence of seasons, the influence of the increasing altitude could be felt all the more.

While he hadn't managed to kick off a conversation on the way to the tent, Kensuke decided to use the cozy atmosphere around the campfire for yet another try, for he had something to say that had been needing to be said for quite a while now, even if a certain friend of his had not yet managed to swallow his stubborn pride to a sufficient degree: "Touji is really sorry that he beat you up. In the end, he got scolded by his little sister of all people! She said that you and your robot saved our lives. Must be quite embarrassing to get scolded by an elementary school student, right?" Kensuke reported, poking around in the fire with a wooden stick.

Unfortunately, he was forced to conclude that striking up a conversation with the involuntary EVA pilot was a daunting task – That last battle must have affected him profoundly, which meant that the entire robot business – as much as it enticed his curiosity – was probably off the menu.

So, Kensuke tried something else: "I like coming here at night, when those cicadas don't make such a ruckus. Until recently, it used to be bearable during the day as well, but lately, those things have been mating like rabbits…"

Even Kensuke himself was actually a little startled when Shinji actually replied, speaking for the first time in days: "Misato-san says… that it's a sign that the ecosystem is slowly recovering…"

Kensuke grinned.

Yet another successfully accomplished mission for his list of achievements. And Shinji had even steered the conversation back to the more interesting topics, all by himself.

"Misato-san, you say? Man, I'm really envious. You get to live with such a gorgeous lady, and on top of that, you get to pilot the Evangelion! If I could do that only once, my heart would be content… I'd show these monsters who's boss!" Kensuke gushed, accentuating his fantasies with a few gestures of high entertainment value.

But Shinji had a significantly more disenchanted view of his job: "Be glad that you don't have to. Your mother would be worried…"

"I don't think so. I don't even have one. I'm the same as you."

That prompted the first visible reaction is the Third Child's face. He even straightened himself up, properly looking his companion in the eyes for once.

But before Shinji could ask how Kensuke had known this – maybe he had deduced it from the fact that he was basically living with his superior, or perhaps he could tell from the way he'd said that last sentence? – the latter announced that their dinner must be ready by now, and the two of them had their meal together.

Apparently, Shinji liked it; in any case, he complimented the food with a few sparse words and apologized for imposing on Kensuke.

It was probably a positive sign that he was the one to start their next conversation once they had retreated into the tent and hidden away under their blankets:

"Do you do this kind of thing often?"

"Yeah, sort of." Kensuke admitted.

"Is that supposed to be training for some sort of guerilla-warfare?"

"With a plastic gun? Not really. I just do this for fun."

One step forward…

* * *

><p>…and one step back.<p>

The sun didn't grant the next morning as much vibrant colors as the last one – Or who knows, maybe the sun was secretly doing its best and shining as brightly as it could, it's not like there was any way to prove the opposite with these thick layers of mist in the way.

But the singing of the early birds wasn't the only sound to greet the dawning of the next day; What awakened Kensuke from his slumber were the steps of a nearing group of people.

Alarmed by their sounds, he quickly put on his glasses and moved over to the entrance of the tent, ready to face the newcomers.

He much preferred to reveal himself by his own choice, with the safety of the tent behind his back to them being the ones to pull the fabric of the entrance aside and "catch" him in a small enclosed space.

But as soon as the military otaku took a glance outside, it became apparent that his "strategy" didn't matter one way or another – he already had been surrounded to begin with.

In each of the four directions, there was one well-built man in a black suit and dark sunglasses, led by a woman who was standing directly in front of the tent.

She, too, was wearing sunglasses and black clothes, in her case, a blazer and a tube-like skirt that ended just above her knees.

Kensuke knew enough about this kind of things to recognize them as trained security personnel at first glance.

Normally, this would have instantly activated his inner fan boy and bombarded them with questions, excited to actually meet people like that in real life, but today, he knew that there was only one possible reason for them to be here…

The Third Child.

And with that being the case, this lady and her companions meant trouble before anything else, as impressed as Kensuke was to find a woman working in such a job.

Now, one may have wrongly gotten the impression that he was currently being presented with a nice view, considering that he had just crawled out of a tent to find a woman in a short skirt looking down at him, but she was wearing rather opaque, black stockings and high, black boot without any heels to hinder her.

She had long, jet black hair that was bound into a high ponytail on the back of her head, and it would have been wrong to say that she didn't possess above-average physical beauty, but she completely lacked any sort of aura of attractiveness or magnetic charisma; Yes, she wasn't ugly, but there was nothing about her looks, posture or gestures inviting you to find that out and make your eyes linger. You would only have noticed her beauty if you were looking for it, if you used your fantasy to fill in what the nondescript cut of her clothes wouldn't reveal to you.

She wasn't a drool-inducing diva like Misato where your first or second association would be the word "Hot!", but more of a small light.

"Are you… Ikari Shinji-kun?"

The sentence sounded experienced, matter-of-factly and businesslike, like you'd expect it of a computer, or well, a professional, but there had been that strange pause in her speech, as if it cost her some effort to bring herself to use the boy's name.

Kensuke was, at first, a little stunned by all this.

"No, I'm… I'm Aida Kensuke, a classmate of his… b-but he's here. Wait a moment, I'll go get him…"

Since he wanted to avoid being accused trying any sort of tricks by these 'Gentlemen' (All that trouble after last week's incident had been more than enough for him and he didn't feel like getting arrested or anything) he slipped back inside his tent as swiftly as he could – but in the end, he might as well have spared himself the trouble: The spot that, until recently, had been occupied by a certain EVA pilot was now filled with various items that had been lying around in the tent, arranged under a blanket by the missing pilot himself so that his disappearance wouldn't become apparent right away.

* * *

><p>Touji heard the story the next morning, just after arriving in his classroom.<p>

"And you would have told them where he is? Just like that?" Touji bristled at Kensuke's account of the events.

"That's easy for you to say, but those were pros from NERV's security section. They are… trained in close combat."

_"Don't you have any balls at all?"_

A group of girls in the background expressed their disapproval at Touji's choice of words.

"Only a fool would fight when they cannot win. My balls have nothing to do with it. If he'd still been there, they would have found out one way or another, and then they'd arrest me, too. I don't know about you, but being put through the meat grinder _once _was more than enough for me…"

"Still, I wonder what the hell he was doing there to have those security gorillas chasing after him…"

"He probably ran away." Kensuke speculated. "He didn't explicitly say so, but given all that happened, it's the most obvious conclusion…"

"Damn it!" Touji slammed his first onto his desk. "Just what is he _thinking_!"

He sounded furious, but his anger wasn't directed at Shinji and Kensuke as much as at himself and own contributions to the current state of affairs; He couldn't stop his worry from seeping through.

* * *

><p>Kensuke and the security personnel might still have found Shinji in that tent if he hadn't woken up a little earlier through pure coincidence; Shinji himself couldn't quite say why exactly he had stolen off on his own.<p>

He had been offered warmth and security and kindness, all the things he had been missing and needing so much after the last battle.

But was that so unusual of a beginning? It had been the same with Misato, she had only bothered to be nice at first, but then, sooner or later, came the demands or at least the questions.

Questions that he hadn't felt like answering, both right now and just after the battle, because he was so very ashamed of the truth.

It was quite possible that Kensuke would've woken up, stretched himself a little and the immediately proceeded to ask a question that would have pressured Shinji, even without meaning to, something amongst the lines of casually asking what he was doing here and whether he wasn't missing any of his 'uber cool pilot training'.

So far, the other boy had always been kind to Shinji and he was sure that he meant well, but his enthusiasm pertaining to that whole EVA thing only served to feed Shinji's uncertainty.

He didn't want anything to do with it anymore, and he had suffered so much in that horrid biomechanical contraption that any praising of its alleged "coolness" was nothing but scoff to his ears, and he had to remind himself that it hadn't been Kensuke's intention to deride him.

Also, he wondered if the military otaku would even talk to him if he didn't happen to be that thing's pilot.

Probably not.

It wasn't as if there was anything about Shinji himself that would be worth it.

Before he had become an EVA pilot… no one had ever paid him any heed at all.

His teacher didn't count, after all, he'd gotten a big, fat payroll from his father for bothering with him.

Even if he had stayed, Kensuke probably would have lost interest in him quickly enough as soon as he noticed that Shinji wasn't the cool superhero he probably believed him to be.

And he no longer _was_ an EVA pilot, anyway.

He couldn't stand that fear and that uncertainty.

So, he ran away.

So, he kept meandering across the mountainside.

* * *

><p>Shinji's long, aimless roaming eventually led him to a small source, where cool, clear water gushed out of the mountain in the middle of the forest.<p>

It had to be an absolute coincidence; After fleeing Kensuke's tent, he had even given up on following any sort of ways or paths, and simply followed his nose regardless of what lay in front of it.

It was less surprising that he had wound up in the middle of a forest, which was, according to what his teacher always told him, supposed to be a place that was filled to the brim with many diverse life forms – For all Shinji cared, he might just as well be walking through a wide, white salt desert devoid of any distinguishing features;

There was nothing here at all that meant anything to him, nothing that was enough to prompt any kind of real reaction from him, beyond reminding him of his own insignificance, much like the mountains they were growing on.

But at least they provided him with some fresh oxygen.

He had stopped once or twice to deeply inhale the pure forest air, but it hadn't brought him much of a lasting comfort.

It was little surprising, then, that not even happening across that little source managed to make his expression change, but he did stop for what he intended to be a short rest.

His feet were sore and ached from all the running, and this was a nice opportunity to remove his shoes and did them into some cold water to alleviate that.

The temperature was unpleasant at first, but quite refreshing and invigorating after a few instants of getting used to it.

He took some of the water and used it to wash his face.

It may still have been misty and cool in the morning, but by now, the sun was back to its usual merciless bombardment, and now that the rainclouds that has obscured it for the past week had fully dissipated, the heat of the eternal summer could be felt at full strength once again.

The trees may have shielded him from the direct path of the unforgiving rays, but the evaporative heat loss on his face was still very welcome.

Since he was in the middle of nowhere anyway, he let himself be tempted to stay and observe for a while, to watch as the water broke out of the depths of the earth and formed a newborn creek as he soaked his feet in it – He had nothing else to do…at least until he suddenly noticed a red tint in the water. Sure, he had seen a lot of red water in his life, but this wasn't the sea, just a little brook… and the discoloration didn't seem to be starting directly at the source, anyway.

Shinji got the answers to his emerging questions when he saw a few drops of red liquid falling past him.

Perturbed, he turned around – and, to his horror, was forced to conclude that someone had been standing right behind him for quite a while without him noticing.

But that wasn't what made him pale like a piece of paper.

Before him stood something that resembled a woman of eighteen or seventeen years, wearing men's clothes that were far too large, even more disheveled than he was, and – this being the particular detail that made his heartbeat cease for an instant – covered in bloodstains.

Even her face and the cap that covered almost all of her hair were generously splattered with red stains.

The worst, however, was the source of the red droplets, a woman's headless corpse that was being carried by that unbelievable apparition.

And it was currently less than a few centimeters away from Shinji's face.

Absurd giant robots? Okay.

Humongous monsters attacking? Yeah.

All that other surreal stuff? It hadn't killed him yet.

But something this close, this real without the Evangelion's plate armor in between…

Something as _mundane_ as a psychopathic killer…

That was the last straw.

Shinji just started screaming uncontrollably, and recoiled, skidding backwards, even if he had to move into the stream's cold water for that, but before long, he felt something on his back that didn't belong to the opposite back of the little creek, something like a solid, invisible wall, a complete barrier that caused him strange sensations wherever he made contact with it, as if every touch contained something like a call.

The woman nonchalantly dropped the corpse into the brook, leaving its blood to poor into it in a much more direct manner, and raised her head which had been lowered until now, so that Shinji wasn't spared from seeing the murderous leer on her face.

Her strangely familiar face.

Shinji's screaming just grew louder and wilder, he released unprocessed noise from his lungs, began kicking around, and hit the invisible barrier behind him with his fists, still not convinced of its existence.

This was simply far too much… why did it have to be him, why was it always _him_?

He wanted all of this to stop, it was supposed to stop!

He wanted out of here. Why wouldn't all of this just _stop_?

Why couldn't he just wake up to find himself beneath Misato's ceiling, and find out that all of this was just some crazy nightmare, being beaten up at school, the battle, the chew-out that followed, all of this, all of it, one single nightmare!

As far as he could tell, this situation had been far beyond fixing for a long time.

On top of that, this… this thing was now closing in on him, one step or another.

It was only when Shinji was pressed against her wall in panic, and she herself mere centimeters away from where he sat, that she began to speak, providing him with fresh reasons to abuse his vocal cords.

"Divine child." Her lips formed.

{{Ikari Shinji}} was what reverberated inside his head.

He clutched the fabric of his shirt in panic.

It was as if he could hear her speak from the depths of his very being, deep, deep within his innermost, betwixt all the dirt and filth he kept in the repugnant core of all that he was, straight from the festering darkness he was trying to separate himself from.

Just by speaking to him, she forced him to look inside, where he _never_ looked, where he never _wanted_ to look.

Her voice – not just its simple sound, but some abstract, metaphysical essence of it, the sheer substance of the words, accompanied by something subtle and immaterial that resembled the sound of a tuning fork.

Overwhelmed, he pressed his hands against his ears, quickly gave that up, and clasped his head instead, shaking it wildly as he screamed.

He gave up on covering his ears because it had been fruitless; Even then, he could still feel her from within, loud and perfectly clear.

He shrank away from that wall, for it, too, was something of hers, filled with her reverberation, reflected that eldritch sound and passed it on to his very bones and innards from wherever he touched it.

That was the instant when the realization that this being before him could not be human hit him with its full force.

The aura of strength that could be felt heavy in the air, that corona of resonance reminded him of his encounter with the last angel, yet at the same time, he sensed that this was something fundamentally different.

It didn't have the suffocating heaviness of an angel's presence, it felt different, completely different, something stealthier and subtler, and yet much, much mightier;

The greatest contrast was perhaps that she wasn't just emanating her presence in all directions, she was really speaking _to him_, almost like… like a human would.

Like a human that he knew very well…

And like a human that knew him just as well…

He knew her, he could hear her inside his head, and she was really speaking to him alone, to him in particular.

She had said his name.

His very own name.

How on earth did this …thing know his goddamn name?

He felt like he was about to burst apart, just from sitting this close to where she stood.

{{Ikari Shinji.}} the being repeated.

{{Ikari Shinji, third of the chosen ones.}}

"Wha-wha-what do you want from me?! What did I do?!" he ultimately managed before breaking down in helpless, desperate sobs.

{{I'm sorry.}}

"H-Heh?!"

{{I'm sorry. No mother likes to bring harm to one of her children.}}

"M-Mother?!"

{{But rest assured…}}

She placed her hand in the middle of his face, marking him with the warm, sticky blood that clung to it and, in spite of all his attempts to somehow evade, moved it all the way up to his hairline, where she actually stopped to stroke his head.

Shinji felt the trail of blood she had left on him trickling over and dripping down from his face.

Resting assured was the last thing on his mind right now.

{{Do you see that?}}

She did not have to point at it with her fingers, rather, she somehow _transferred_ that meant the headless corpse that was currently bleeding into the water.

{{I'm doing all of this for you.}}

His heartbeat was frenzied, his breathing fast and loud.

"For… for me?! I haven't seen you before in all of my life!" he wailed. He had already resigned himself to the fact that would most likely lose his life in the next few minutes. He didn't expect to be missed.

"A-And you k-killed someone, too…" he added, in tears.

"Something this horrible… something like this…"

{{What are you afraid of?}} her words came, simultaneously emerging from her lips and the depths of Shinji's spirit.

That was the first time that a trace of actual human emotion, more precisely, surprise became visible on her face, but he couldn't shake off that feeling that it wasn't really her emotion from her own heart, that she was only wearing one of his.

But he was quick to assume that it must have been coming from her and the ringing of her unearthly presence, because the only thing _he_ was feeling right now was abject fear.

That thing before him terrified him enough to leave every ounce of blood in his body frozen solid. And now, she was bending forward to look him in the eye.

Her next sentence sent him into another screaming fit that was only ended when he eventually broke down in sobs – Her sentence, and the uncanny, almost maternal tone that came with it: {{I am only trying to bring about _what you wished for_.}} She whispered close to his ear, either oblivious to his panic or deliberately ignoring it. {{You should be happy.}}

She knelt down next to him and stayed there, regardless of how much he kicked and screamed, how much he tried to push her away, to just get as far away as the narrow room between her and her invisible wall allowed it.

"Why would I want anyone to die?" he cried, his face reddened and awash in tears. "And why me? Why _me_ of all people?"

That was the very question that had been vexing him for a very long time now, in many different contexts. "How does it matter what I wish for? Because I just… happened across this place or- I'm… I'm not… particularly wise or important or-"

"Hehehehe…. Hihihihi…"

She laughed, one abhorrent, eerie snicker barely resembling human vocalizations, but it was easily outshined by the correspondent pendant that manifested directly in Shinji's head, a metallic screech mated with the shrill shriek of chalk scratching down a blackboard that appeared to be scraping against his very soul, refusing to be expressed by any sort of phonetic spelling.

{{Ikari Shinji…}} She pressed her hand to his forehead and distanced herself again, rising to her feet, but never letting go of him, eventually standing there with her fully outstretched arm reaching down to his face. {{You might just be the most important human being in all of creation…}}

Had he finally lost it for good?

He wanted it all to stop…. stop… stop… he couldn't stand any more of this… he couldn't _take_ any more of this… He didn't _want_ any more of this…

{{…and this is why…}}

Her eyes narrowed.

{{…you will have to die now…}}

**_SPLOTCH_**

Shinji didn't even have the time to shield his face with his arms.

The headshot was followed by several further shots to the center of the mass, riddling the whole torso with enough holes to make a Swiss cheese envious.

The woman, no, the creature collapsed without the slightest resistance, falling right past Shinji, over the corpse she brought with her, landing face down in the waters of the small stream.

As she fell, her cap, now with a new hole in it, came undone, releasing a torrent of long, sky-blue hair to cover her form like a shroud after she had fallen.

It hardly needed saying that Shinji got splattered in her blood.

But that was only one of many reasons for his subsequent scream.

Until now, he had only met a single person with this strange hair color that he'd classified as 'azure blonde' for lack of a better term.

And hadn't this thing's face looked so very familiar…?

No, no, this… this couldn't be, he was just making weird, unhinged associations…

Eventually, what snapped Shinji out of his almost trance-like state of absolute shock was the sound of nearing footsteps.

The shooter.

Of course. The bullets that had probably saved his life had to have come from somewhere.

Hesitantly, he turned his eyes into the direction the steps could be heard from, and his gaze came to meet with four men in black.

The woman walking ahead of them – presumably their leader – was still holding her gun.

It was probably her that he had to thank for the fact that his head was still on his shoulders.

But… these people… they didn't really have any reason to be here in the middle of the forest… and they looked like security personnel.

Like NERV's section two, for example.

They had come for _him_.

"Step away." The gun-toting woman ordered without much emotion.

"E-eh?"

He rose to his feet, his clothes still dripping wet.

"Away from the corpses."

Now, he understood.

He took one step backwards, out of the water.

And another.

And then he turned and ran as fast as he could.

He wanted out of here, away from here, away from all of it, away from NERV and away from that thing, from all the violence and the grotesque absurdities.

* * *

><p>"Asahina-san?"<p>

One of her colleagues turned to face the woman in black an inquiring look.

"…follow him and keep him under close observation, but don't retrieve him yet." Asahina ordered in a businesslike fashion. "I need to clarify this situation with headquarters first. I'll send you reinforcements if necessary."

"Yes, Ma'am."

The four men in black departed.

Their steps quickly vanished into the forest – after all, they had been trained to move without arousing suspicion.

In contrast, their leader let her glance wander to her 'prey' lying in the creek, at first only from the corner of her eyes.

Blue hair.

Then she turned, walked over to the bank of the steam, knelt down there and grabbed the fresher of the two corpses by the shoulder to inspect its face.

In reaction to the sight of it, Asahina's expression went through a series of distinct states, beginning with shock, continuing with wrath, all the way to a thin, cold smile and back to her previous, cool, professional, nondescript expression.

And just as cold and professionally, she took her weapon and emptied it into the being's skull, leaving its face looking like the crater-ridden surface of the moon when she rose up again.

He took her phone from her pocket, but it was only her second call that went back to NERV HQ.

* * *

><p>Shinji kept running until he had long since found his way out of the forest, being forced to slow down by the fact that he was completely out of breath, having forced every cell in his drained, used up body to its outermost limits.<p>

The splatters of blood had found the time to dry on both his clothes and his skin, much like his tears.

Not that the absence of these now brownish stains would have made that much of a difference, he had been wearing that same uniform for god knows how long, and by now, it was swathed in filth. What little money he had taken with himself for the sake of buying provisions had long since run out, and because he had been forced to leave his shoes next to the source, his feet were covered in bruises and scratches.

And now, on top of all that, it was getting dark, and he was out here on his own, with nothing to protect himself from the cold of the night.

He had run away from a place and a life where there was nothing but pain, because there was nothing good at all.

But out here, in the middle of nowhere… he wasn't terribly far from becoming a snack for the rats, he felt like he might just let himself collapse onto the ground and wait patiently for the warmth to seep out of him, to just go belly up here, unseen and forgotten.

Shinji was thoroughly worn down and, frankly spoken, feeling goddamn awful.

He may or may not have let himself sink into the mud if the meadows he had currently been wading through with his trouser legs turned up hadn't been parted by a highway, a sight that awakening a pale glimmer of hope in him, as dim as it may have been.

A highway!

A real, asphalted, marked, illuminated highway.

A road that was bound to lead somewhere.

Walking on the concrete was a lot more comfortable than the ground of the forest or the meadow, as long as he made sure not to step on any of these sharp little stones.

Maybe he would be able to find shelter for the night if he just kept following this road.

He kept walking on and on, but he wasn't passed by a single car.

Later, he came across several orange traffic cones and what looked like the a roadblock minus all the waiting cars, but he wasn't deterred, even if he distantly wondered which this highway was blocked at all.

The single car that was surrounded by further traffic cones at the edge of the street may just have broken down.

But where had its owners gone?

Shinji's journey continued, this time, through a tunnel.

Someone had left their bicycle lying around there, and the resulting image looked desolate beyond words.

But after glancing at it for a short while, even Shinji walked past it and left it behind, continuing his lonesome stride towards the exit of the tunnel.

When he finally traversed it, however, he found a discouraging revelation waiting for him.

With wide eyes, Shinji stared at the road in front of him, or rather, the lack thereof.

On this side of the tunnel, the highway continued for a little, held up by the pillars beneath it, but a few dozens of meters further ahead, two large chunks of it were missing, leaving the middle part between them standing like a little bridge without a proper ending or beginning, defiantly remaining in the landscape for no purpose beyond its own vanity.

Yes, it was just as useless as Shinji himself, and yet, it was there.

As for the Third Child himself, he was standing before an absolute abyss: There was no way forward, nothing at his sides, and nothing to turn back to, either, not anymore.

End of the line.

The most ironic thing was that Shinji could easily conclude just what had cut his path short – The humongous footprints before and after the behind the crushed bridge told him all.

If it had been last month's angel, the repairs would at least have started by now, and the one last week didn't have any feet to speak of, which narrowed the circle of suspects down to a single possible culprit: EVA 01. He must have cut off his own way out back when he charged the angel like a madman.

He couldn't go on any longer.

It was over.

If he really thought about it, this entire little "road trip" had been over the moment it began; How far could he possibly have come, a mere, unknowing child like him, without any goal for him to reach?

Besides… that security lady may have saved his life, but… there was no way they could've possibly found him in the middle of that forest, which implied that they must have been following him for quite a while…

They were probably _still_ following him.

Of course. They had to be.

They needed to know exactly where he was at any time so they could drag him off to stuff him into his Evangelion if one of these monsters should show up.

He never really escaped them, and he should have expected that one child alone wouldn't be capable to escape from such a huge organization…

It had all been for naught.

Shinji felt resignation spreading through his being, but also, terrific wrath directed at his own powerlessness.

He clenched his fists.

"_Enough_! In the end, you're gonna bring me back to Misato-san _anyway_, aren't you?!"

The moment he turned around, Shinji was forced to narrow his eyes to shield them from the blinding brightness of many lights that appeared mainly from above the tunnel.

Once his eyes had grown accustomed to the brightness, his suspicions were confirmed; There were men in black all around him and the woman from earlier had already pulled out her phone, probably to organize his retrieval.

He let himself be dragged away without uttering a single word.

* * *

><p>"What?!" Misato shouted into her phone, obliviously pouring the contents of her electric kettle straight onto her countertop, missing the cup on instant noodles that had once been the intended target by a notable margin.<p>

PenPen briefly commented it all with an puzzled blink before he continued to waddle his own way.

"You… You're saying they found him?"

* * *

><p>Leaving her kettle where it was, Misato had raced back to NERV headquarters in a frenzy, most likely breaking over a dozen traffic rules in the process.<p>

She didn't care.

She had other worries right now.

Naturally, she _did_ want to see Shinji and make sure that he was all right, but she couldn't have said whether she was really happy about his return. She feared that the entire EVA business was bound to run him into the ground sooner or later, but she wasn't doing him a favor by allowing him to run away from responsibility.

She hadn't even heard about the circumstances of his retrieval yet, but in either case, she concluded that the best way of action would be to ask him what he wanted, straight to his face.

During her trip to headquarters, she kept replaying the words she had prepared for their meeting in her head, over and over again… She had to get to the security wing, where the bullpens were situated.

Cell number 1-0-1, she had been told.

The corridor next to them was narrow and, in Misatos opinion, could have done with better lighting; Not the sort of place she would she would spend extended periods of time in if she could help it, but probably just about right for a prison.

Since she didn't come here often, the numeric designations of the cells were her only orientation – One would think that a cell with a number like '1-0-1' would be easy to find.

Then, a sparkle of hope.

A woman in dark shades, a black blazer and a matching skirt was standing before one of the doors, ostensibly guarding someone or waiting for her superiors.

If that wasn't Shinji's cell behind her, she would at least be able to show her the way.

"Hey you there! Excuse me, but could you please tell me where to find cell 1-0-1?"

The woman only slightly tilted her head in Misato's direction.

"Are you Captain Katsuragi?" she asked, frankly and businesslike, as if her tone was meant to shame Misato for her own, rather informal tone.

The woman in red straightened herself and made an effort to produce a serious expression.

"Yes, I am. I assume that the Third Child is in here?"

The security lady nodded. "He surrendered to us of his own, free will and has been cooperative ever since."

He surrendered? Misato didn't know whether to be worried or relieved.

Of course it wouldn't have been good if he had been dragged here kicking and screaming all the way, but she could also picture the alternative very clearly: Shinji, with his head lowered as usual, and an expression of deep, repressed sorrow on his face, not even bothering to resist because he didn't have the courage, and that image did not make her happy.

"How is he?"

"He's not injured, if that's what you mean. But he could probably do with a bath and a warm meal. But there is something else I am to inform you of."

"…Something… else…?"

"My colleagues and I were able to avert it, but today… there was an attempt on the Third Child's life."

Misato wondered how that woman could state such a thing like it was an everyday occurrence to her. "An… attempt on his life?!"

That wasn't good. That wasn't good at all… Okay, Shinji had survived, but that he was forced to live through something like this on top of everything else…

"Correct." The woman in black confirmed. "I have personally terminated the perpetrator, so there is no reason for further worry."

"Who… who was it?"

"We believe that it was what the media currently refers to as the Tokyo-3-serial killer."

"The serial killer? The one that always does those weird things with the corpses?"

"Correct."

"And you got them? Then you're the one who saved Shinji-kun's life… What's your name?"

"Asahina. Asahina Najiko."

"Then, thank you very much, Asahina-san. Can I see him now?"

"Go ahead. I will be leaving you to your personal space."

As Asahina's steps trailed off in the passageway, Misato took a moment to gather her thoughts and order the words she was planning to say one last time.

She may not have shown it much before Asahina, but she was really not amused, and she wasn't planning on pampering Shinji, either.

But she would ask him what he wanted.

So, she pressed the button that would open the door.

The cell was dark and spacious, with NERVs insignia on one of the walls.

And Shinji was slumped on a little plastic chair and avoided looking at her if he could help it.

"It's been a while."

No comment.

"So, did you gain any great insights from bumming around for three days, Shinji-kun?"

"Dunno."

"They've finished repairing the EVA. Are you going to pilot it… or not?"

Splendid! He had only just returned, and already, it was all about that terrifying purple abomination! If anything, it was just another confirmation that he shouldn't have expected to find anything good in this place.

"You… you're not going to scold me, are you?

…Of course not, after all, it's not like we're related…

If I say that I don't want to pilot Unit One anymore, what will you do?"

"Make Rei do it instead."

Of course. Rei.

"It seems unrealistic for you to force it all on her…"

Then again, hadn't his father almost gone through with it already?

The thought that that poor, injured girl would have to shoulder all of these horrible battles on her own did make him feel a sting somewhere in his heart.

"…but don't worry, I'll pilot it."

"But you don't really want to, right?"

"Of course not. I'm not cut out for it, either. But that doesn't matter, does it? It's not like anyone actually cares what I think. I have to pilot the EVA, that's the only reason my father called me here to begin with… So who cares? I'll do it, if that's what everyone expects of me…"

After all, they had just gone through the trouble of dragging him back here. There was no way that they were just going to let him go, right? The point of this whole speech was most likely to get a "yes" out of him that sounded honest enough to them.

He had already agreed to do as they say, so what else did they want?

They couldn't honestly expect him to _enjoy_ or _want_ the ordeals they planned to push him through!

"Yeah, but aside from all that, what do _you_ want?"

"I… I just don't think that I can do this…" Shinji admitted. "And I don't think any of you really believe that, either…"

It was a simple, unshakeable truth that he wasn't any sort of valiant superhero with nerves of steel. He couldn't just turn off his fears by pressing a button, and much less did he understand why he of all people had to be chosen for this. His father may have said that he was the only one who could do it, but… no, he could not. He wasn't capable of handling all this in the _least._ To name an example, both Touji and Kensuke could be said to have significantly more heroic personalities than he did, not that he would wish any of this horrible suffering on them.

But it couldn't be helped.

It was him they asked this of, it was him whom they forced into this.

"…but Ayanami is injured, and this is why you, my father, and Ritsuko-san want me to-"

Misato had enough. Why couldn't that boy give her a single straight, honest answer?

_"Don't always bend yourself to what you think others want!"_ she shouted, furious, but very much tinted with desperation.

"Don't you get it? _We have no use for unwilling pilots!_"

Whether you want to pilot the EVA or not is something that only you can decide. If you don't want to, no one's going to stop you from leaving! Forget everything about us and the EVAs, and just go back where you came from! It's your choice."

After leaving him with those words, she immediately shut the door without leaving him any chance for further questions or comments.

Shinji stared helplessly into the dark. He had nothing to hold on to, nothing to show him the way, no way to tell what he was supposed to do.

She just left him hanging in thin air.

* * *

><p>(1) I couldn't quite decide what version of Shinji's "retrieval" to use. On the one hand, I'm one of Kensuke's few fans and really missed the tent scene from episode 4, but on the other hand, the "end of the road"-scene from Rebuild was such a powerful visual metaphor, and the way he "surrenders" there perfectly encapsulates one of the main points of that particular part of the story, his powerlessness before those huge organizations… So I looked for a way to include both.<p>

(2) A "Fugue" is a baroque type of music, characterized by increased repetitions of a few motifs – Like anything baroque, they were internally strictly ordered, but since I checked some of them out, out of curiosity after hearing so much about it in school, I've always thought that the combination of the many melodies at times sounds increasingly chaotic and intense (depending on the exact piece), like someone slowly going mad… maybe it's just my layman's ears that aren't accustomed to classical music. You may have heard of Beethoven's Great Fugue. Bach, Mozart and various Baroque artists also made some cool ones... But the allusions to a number of similar terms are, of course, fully intentional. As is the invocation of the common associations to the word "baroque". And yes, it comes from the latin word for "flight" or "escape."

(3) So yeah, there's Asahina's introduction and sufficient hints at all you need to know about her… have fun speculating.

(4) For clarification, the "invisible wall" mentioned in the middle part was escaped-experiment-chans AT-Field. Shinji just didn't recognize it as such.

(5) Shouldn't Shinji's neck hurt from the way he's always staring downwards? I only really noticed how much he does that (especially in the prologue arc) once I tried to get his body language written down. And was his Japanese voice always this… acoustic equivalent of a "please-hug-me"-sign? *gives Shinji a huge teddy bear and hugs both him and the teddy* So, and now, smile a little, will ya? Looking at you like this hurts my freakin' soul…

(6) So much for "Evangelion" meets "Catcher in the Rye". Now, onto the next chapter! Will he stay or will he go? And will he recover? This and more will be revealed in the next chapter, 10: [Home at last]


	11. 10: Home at last

**10: [Home at last]**

* * *

><p><em>You don't really wanna stay<em>

_But you don't really wanna go_

_-Katy Perry, 'Hot 'n Cold'_

* * *

><p>"You <em>do<em> know that the Third Child will be leaving Neo-Tokyo-3 today, right?"

"This is why we have to reconfigure Unit One for Rei as soon as possible." Ikari replied matter-of-factly. His voice sounded astonishingly nonchalant considering that this was his own son they were talking about, but Dr. Akagi had known him long enough to notice that his posture seemed marginally stiffer and more tense than usual.

The two of them were traversing one of NERVs many escalators, accompanied by Rei herself, who was still tightly wrapped in bandages.

"But…-"

"Regardless of what happened with Unit Zero last time, we need to continue with Unit One right away."

Dr. Akagi snuck a glance at the girl in question. She still looked battered, but in spite of the fact that her future was being decided right in front of her, there was not a single muscle moving in her face.

"The Second Child is still in Germany, and according to the last report from the Marduk-Institute, the Fourth Child has yet to be found."

That was one big, fat lie – The institute did not exist and the Fourth Child was already stationed in Bethany Base – But thanks to the situation with the Third Angel, she would have to stay there for now, at least until he found a convenient opportunity to sabotage the projects that were being carried out there.

Even if her information was incorrect, Dr. Akagi's conclusion was still very valid: "And that means that we currently don't have a replacement for the Third Child. And that's not our only worry. The escaped test subject was briefly caught, but it escaped on the way here… At least we can now be certain that it was indeed acting as the 'serial killer'… and it was wearing clothes. That's a human concept. How it could possibly understand that baffles me. I've come to think that something must have… taken over the clone and modified it for its own purpose…"

"That would explain why shooting it didn't work. But it raises much more questions than it answers."

"I'm working on it. But what should we do about that woman? If she saw this, then…"

"Then she has probably already alerted the old men, yes. But they won't take action until they have solid evidence. If we can dispose of the problem before they can snoop around any further, this should be of little consequence."

"If she _is_ going to snoop around, wouldn't it be better to eliminate her?"

"She knows that she can't fool us with hair dye and colored lenses, and the old men know that they can only provoke us so much. They probably have another spy. That woman is only a decoy."

"Another spy, you say…?"

* * *

><p>The Third Child himself was already sitting in the car that was supposed to take him to the train station and waited for the security personnel to finish pulling his security card through the shredder.<p>

His fingers were clawed into the fabric of his trousers.

He had firmly decided that he was going to leave.

This time for real. He would go back to his old teacher's place where there would be no more horrifying battles and no more torturous agony. So why did he feel this uncertainty raising through his being?

Somehow, he felt like he was about to miss or to lose something, as if he were wasting a chance…

He would never see any of them ever again… Touji, Kensuke, his Father, Dr. Akagi, Ayanami, Misato… oh, Misato.

He knew that she had no reason to come and see him now that he had decided to leave, but the way she had just left had upset him enough to prevent him from finding any rest during the last night, though having to spend it in a bullpen did not help.

He just didn't want them to… part on bad terms.

Yesterday he felt that she was being unfair to her, but now that he had time to think about what it meant to never see her again, he couldn't help but remember that she _did_ try to offer him something like a home.

It was his fault that it hadn't worked out. Because he simply wasn't the strong-willed, heroic kind of person that was suited for such things.

He was the useless piece of dirt that had fled with his tail between his legs, and he was about to do it again, even after he had decided that he wouldn't run away ever again…

Damn. Why was he beginning to feel bad for leaving now? He shouldn't have to, right? He had been forced to be here, and now, they were finally letting him go…

Maybe because useless people like him _deserved_ to feel bad.

It wasn't like he was good enough to stay here, anyway.

He would be unable to bear it one way or another.

The card was shredded, the one who had shredded it boarded the car, and they departed.

The noise from the car wasn't enough to drown out the doubts germinating in his head.

To shut them up, he allowed himself one more question, one last step backwards: "…Where is Misato-san? I would… like to say goodbye…"

"You are no longer a member of NERV, so we can't tell you anything."

He did not protest any further. Yes, there was this sense of disappointment, but he probably deserved it. It was him who had chosen to leave this all behind him.

His journey continued, and soon, they reached the train station.

Shinji recognized it, the power pole, the roofing, everything: It was the same train station he had arrived at, that fateful day when his father sent him that letter.

His father… He probably wasn't going to see him ever again.

Their work at NERV had been the only thing they'd had in common.

The car was parked, and one of the security workers opened the door for him.

But then, something that he wouldn't have expected in a thousand years took place right there and then:

"Ikari, here's all the stuff you forgot at school!"

The bag that was thrown at him from the side was precisely aimed, but Shinji still only barely managed to catch it.

Once he had it firm in his hands, he followed its trajectory with his eyes and saw the impossible.

Touji and Kensuke.

For a few moments, Shinji just stood there, completely speechless.

After he'd caused those two so much hardship, they had actually taken the trouble to come all the way here, solely to bid _him_ farewell?

They had come… because of _him_?

He didn't think that anyone would as much as notice his departure, much less that he was in any way worth being missed, but here they were.

In flesh, blood and three dimensions.

"Uh, could I please have a moment to say goodbye?" Shinji asked quietly, hoping that the answer would be 'Yes'. He wouldn't like to walk right past them after they had bothered to come all the way.

One of the men in black nodded.

Tentatively, Shinji brought himself to walk over to them, no knowing what to say. The bag, right, the bag! He should probably thank them for the bag.

"Uh… thank you…" he managed.

Again, it was silent save for the constant chirping in the background.

The tall, tracksuit-wearing boy, however, had begun to tense up a little.

But fortunately, he had Kensuke with him: "Come on, say it!" he urged, giving his friend the little push he couldn't give himself – in the most literal form of a small nudge.

Touji stood up straight and looked Shinji in the eye, his expression suddenly serious.

"Ikari, I'm sorry for beating you up. As compensation, I want you to punch _me_ now."

"B-but I can't do such a thing…" Shinji replied, notably uncertain.

He was pretty much overwhelmed by all this.

"I insist on it. I won't be satisfied otherwise."

"Come on, just punch him already so he shuts up." Kensuke added, his smile confirming that doing this would be okay.

"B-but…"

"Hurry up!" Touji demanded, ostensibly serious about what he just said. "You don't have all day!"

As a matter of fact, the men in black were already checking their watches.

"A-Alright, but only once…" Shinji finally yielded.

"Then come on! Do it already!"

Now sufficiently convinced to somehow go through with this, Shinji put down his bag and aimed his blow.

"WAIT! _Don't you dare hold back_!"

All right, if he… kept saying it like that… After all that had already happened between them, Shinji didn't want to disappoint him any further, and so, he moved to strike him, this time for real.

OUCH.

That scrawny little Ikari boy was a lot stronger than he looked.

Even Shinji himself seemed a little nonplussed about the effect of his punch.

"Ouch, that hit home." Kensuke commented.

Both of them smiled at Shinji once more.

And then, that silence was back.

Things to talk about, things to talk about…

"Uh, how did you know…"

"What train station you would be departing from?" Kensuke offered. "It was a hunch. We've seen dozens of classmates of lately…"

That did leave an affected expression on Shinji's face.

"Since you're leaving, the two of us will also have to leave this city someday." Touji stated, his voice void of the anger or disappointment that Shinji had been expecting ever since the word 'evacuation' had been mentioned. But it was his next sentence that turned all of Shinji's expectations on their heads, shocking him to his very core: "…but we don't have the right to judge you for that. We saw you suffering inside the EVA… And if anyone blames you, I'll kick their ass!" Touji announced, brandishing his fist.

Shinji felt his hands trembling.

This… this was wrong.

It was just wrong, as a matter of principle!

Touji's little sister had been injured because of his incompetence…

Those two would probably be forced to part with each other and have to watch as their friends scattered across the map…

They shouldn't be …nice to him, or talk about _not having the right_ to judge him or anything…

They weren't supposed to have come at all, not for someone as worthless as him…

This… just wasn't right…

"Don't make such a face." Touji suggested.

"Yeah, cheer up!" Kensuke agreed. "And hang in there."

Shinji was just about to break down in tears.

He didn't deserve this, not any of it, not at all.

"I…"

"Time's up." The security worker behind him declared, grabbing him by the shoulder to lead him to the train.

Away from here, away from these two, away from his duties…

The injustice of it all reverberated in his head, it just wouldn't stop, growing louder and louder, the certainty that he did not deserve this.

He lowered his head and grabbed his bag.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, all of it, wrong…

The two even followed after him to observe as the men in black lead him to the train platform…

It was just plain wrong!

"I'm the one who deserves to be punched!" he called out to the two of them, straining against the hold of the security personnel, squeezing himself back through to face his now former classmates.

His tears had finally refused to be held back any longer.

"I'm a coward! A shirker! Dishonest… and weak…"

And then, he let himself be dragged away, leaving two visible shocked boys.

They hadn't expected… hadn't known just how deeply all of this had troubled their newest friend…

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, back in NERV headquarters, Eva 01 was currently being reconfigured.<p>

Misato and Dr. Akagi once again stood on that one bridge where they once tried to persuade Shinji to board the violet titan for the first time.

"He left." was Dr. Akagi's laconic summary of the most recent developments. "Do you still think that this is for the best?"

"You said it yourself…" Misato stated with an unmistakable tinge of sadness to her voice. "The closer we come to each other, the more we hurt each other… like two hedgehogs."

Yes, beyond the whole ethical question and the boy's age, the boy had simply grown on her and she felt compelled to be there for him and to help him. She had suffered a neglectful father herself and wanted to provide him the support she never had.

But she was not the kind of support that he needed.

So far, she had only succeeded in making everything worse.

So, it was probably for the best to let him go.

Him, that boy who just said yes to everything and allowed himself to be subjected to just about anything, who just clung to what others told him no matter how bitterly unhappy that made him.

It was just beyond him – He was flat out incapable to say what he really wanted or what he really wished for. He probably didn't even _know _what he wanted or wished for.

But it was always much easier to recognize a problem than to solve it, it was much easier to say what you _didn't_ want than to figure out what you want, it was simpler to cease doing something than to start with it.

This complete refusal… was probably the only way in which a boy who could not bring himself to make an honest complaint to make others aware of the pain in his heart, the only way in which he could rebel like any other kid his age.

Yes.

"…but on the other hand, I've realized… that he can't express his feelings in any other way…"

* * *

><p>So there it was.<p>

The train.

It came to a halt and opened its doors, the one last threshold Shinji would have to cross for all of this to be over.

He stood right before it, with his head lowered and his bag held in front of his body.

All he needed to do was to make one single step forward.

One single step through this doorframe and everything would go back to the way it was.

Just one single step, and he would be rid of them forever, the fear, the battles, the pain…

One single step, and he would never see them again... Misato… Touji… Kensuke… Dr. Akagi… Ayanami Rei… his father…

Just one single step, and he would finally have escaped this nightmarish place…

Except… not _everything_ had been painful…

(_"Hang in there."_)

On this side of the threshold, there were a thousand and one sources of pain and suffering waiting for him, and on the other, not a single source of happiness.

* * *

><p>Even after she had squeezed the last bit of juice out of her accelerator, in spite of all the red traffic lights she ignored, even if she only barely avoided smashing her car into two certain boys in her attempts to park it as far as possible, by the time Misato arrived at the train station, the train that her young ward was supposed to board was long gone.<p>

She was too late.

And to be honest, she should have saved herself the trouble of coming all the way here to begin with – In the end, all she could have accomplished was to force him into yet another situation he did not want to be in.

Giving up entirely, Misato let out a deep, resigned sigh and gave the air molecules in front of her face a depressed look.

Most likely, it just hadn't been meant to be to begin with…

She was already turning to leave when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye – a solitary figure standing on the platform.

She couldn't believe it.

She wouldn't have expected this from him – unjustly, as she was now forced to concede.

He stood there with his eyes downcast, perhaps dejected or disappointed with himself for his inability to go through with his decision and make that one last step.

But when he noticed her, his eyes grew wide.

She… she had come.

Even though she wasn't supposed to have anything to do with him anymore, now that she was no longer his superior.

She had come, just how he had secretly hoped somewhere deep inside.

The train was gone and she was here.

For half an eternity, the two of them stared each other in the eyes, struggling to believe what their own eyes showed then because it broke multiple laws of their inner universes.

She looked at him, who had stayed even though he didn't have to, and he looked at her, who had come here without having any reason to do so.

Or rather, there was exactly one reason why Misato could have come here:

Because of him.

Just because of him.

Because of him as a person.

All this time.

All this time, they had tried to get closer to each other by giving the other minute hints, to defy one another in the futile hope that the other would be able to deduce the contents of their own heart just from that, when they could simply have shown their true feelings to each other all along.

Shinji still didn't believe that he had what it takes to save the world, or that anything about him was worthy of love. But if he had managed to leave a mark on the hearts of just one or two people, if Misato and him really were more than just coworkers, and if Touji and Kensuke were interested in just a little bit more than his position as an EVA pilot…

If they had really come because of _him_ alone…

Then he may just begin to allow himself a little bit more hope than he did the day before.

Yes, they exist, these small moments where we stop lying to ourselves.

Most of the time, they ended just as quickly as they came, but they were sweeter then honey.

And so, it was Shinji of all people whose expression of bewilderment first melted into a smile as he found just the right words for the first time in his life: "…Here I am…"

"Welcome home."

* * *

><p><em>"The Third Child's poor condition could, first and foremost, be attributed to his mental and physical exhaustion. He was given a few days of leave and has since made a complete recovery. There are no further problems."<em>

Misato held her sigh back until she had turned the voice recorder off and put it down, opening the uppermost drawer in her desk in the meantime, which she soon made the device disappear into, resisting the urge to throw it against a wall or at least to stuff it in the already cramped trash bin – she always kept imagining just how he would react if he ever found any of this, and she could picture it rather well now that the most recent events had provided her with an ample supply of inspiration. Penning these surveillance reports always felt like a breach of trust to her, and she had little doubt that he would see it the same way, frequently catching herself being deliberately half-hearted in her documentation of his state and his activities, as if to diminish her sin.

Nonetheless, the regulations made their demands – what she tried to convince herself of was: This was a condition she had to meet to be able to help him at all, a job that would be done by someone else, someone less benevolent, if she didn't take it upon herself.

But to find this, to see this, and to think what he would inevitably think _if_ he ever found this was the last thing he needed right now.

Thus, she would have to produce satisfying reports, and she would have to make sure he never found out. The lie justified itself through good intentions…

If these words were at least sufficient to say everything, to do it justice, if the superiors that were going to read them would even give as much of a rat's ass about _everything_…

That everything appeared to have worked out in the end was true, but so was the first part of her laconic little report – The very fact that he had been physically affected at all was in itself the most obvious sign of how much that battle had wrecked this boy – she tried to remember their first meeting. Even back then, it hadn't taken her long to notice that he was carrying some serious baggage with him, but he had unusually been pretty fast to complain about her "borrowed" car batteries and even got a little cheeky – but what did she even know about what was "usual" for him?

No, the truth was that she had to way to measure just how much damage, _permanent _damage had already accumulated, just from the two very first battles. It didn't seem unreasonable to guess that he would never be the same again…

And so far, she wasn't convinced that she had done anything to mitigate that in any significant way.

There was no way she could not have noticed – Soon after the immediate tension of the moment had dissolved into relief, the resulting sensation of warmth began to dissipate with the passage of time, giving way to the more practical, physical concerns of their reality, and part of that was that he had not been taking care of himself lately – Not just in the three days and three nights in which he had been wandering the streets of Tokyo-3, but also in the time before that, when he had shut himself in his room at first.

The ugly truth stung her as early as when she had lead him to her car to take him home, in the form of a slight but noticeable limp – It wasn't as bad as it could have been, the explanation was tame enough, and she could deduce it herself: Since he had been retrieved without shoes for some reason, the soles of his feet had been covered in scrapes, and those hadn't healed in a single night. But the occasional grazes he had accumulated here and there were the least of the problems.

One of the first things she tried was to try and convince him to wash himself – that was very much overdue, but it would have to wait, for the very first thing he did as soon as they arrived at her, no, their apartment, was to let himself sink into his bed, where he instantly fell into a deep slumber from which he didn't wake until the next day's evening.

Gently, and careful not to sound too demanding, she finally made him discard the uniform he hadn't changed out for God knows how long (The pant legs, in particular, were covered in mud – She didn't even bother to take any of it to the dry cleaner's, and instead threw everything he had been wearing at that moment straight into the garbage chute – Even if there had still been any hope for that thing, she just didn't want to see it ever again, and she would lose all hope for him if he didn't share that sentiment.) and finally got him to go and wash himself – She couldn't convince him to take a bath and she didn't think it would be too productive to insist on it as long as he agreed to any contact with hot water at all, everything else could wait. An extensive shower would have to be enough.

If any of his less material burdens had followed the layers of dirt into the drain, his expression didn't reveal it.

Getting him to eat something was a little trickier – he didn't even answer when she asked him what he wanted. Misato proceeded to search her collection of canned soups for whatever seemed to have the most vitamins in it (by the standards of her kitchen, that is) and claimed that she would leave it in his room just in case he felt like trying it. At first, it seemed like he wasn't going to touch it, but next time she returned to check on him, she found the bowl neatly emptied out – She could picture him listlessly trying a spoonful at first, mostly so _she _wouldn't be disappointed, only to realize just how long it had been since his last proper meal.

In the meantime, he had put a new battery into his cassette player and immersed himself in his music – Misato did not know whether to count this as a positive sign or not, but he did remove his earplugs when he saw her coming.

She did not immediately realize that he wanted to ask her something, it was more through coincidence than through attentiveness that she caught one more glimpse of him when she bent forward to pick up the bowl, when he hadn't expected her to look at him and thus made less of an effort to hide that he was observing her, scrutinizing every minute detail, every ever so tiny gesture or nonverbal cue, sucking it with empty eyes like black holes, and last few residual doubts in his heart – By then, Misato was already aware that she was being tested: In other words, if he opened his mouth now, what would she do to him? How would she react? Would she scold him, but still grudgingly give him what he wanted, more out of a sense of duty than anything else, or just so he would shut up and leave her alone?

Was he an annoyance? Was he unwanted? Was he a burden?

That what he was he was cautiously trying to probe her about, glance after glance, second after second, as if he were warily treading on thin ice – Her presence on that train station had made it conceivable for him that the answer could indeed be "No", that he may actually have found a place of warmth and refuge, but his scarred heart was far too accustomed to disappointment to believe it this easily.

That he might want seconds was just a lucky guess, but as minimal as it may have been, she did not fail to notice his nod, and the long silhouette that, according to his experience so far, should have disappeared back into the light emanating from the doorway stayed with him, even after she had brought him the second bowl.

She playfully warned him not to choke on it, but she may have rejoiced to soon – despite his initial enthusiasm, he only ate half of it (It may have been too much at once, after several days of only vending machine snacks) and then asked to be left alone.

Less than two hours after he'd woken up, he was back in the arms of Morpheus, still wearing his earphones – She removed them, turned off his cassette player and put it on his nightstand, lest he damage the cable tangle by turning around in his sleep.

It was about noon when he first left his room the next day, and by then, it had become apparent that he must've caught some nasty bug in the cold of these rainy nights, and when she saw him lying there, weakened and afflicted, it became increasingly clear to her that this was _serious_, that this entire piloting business could really be the end of him, one way or another, and for one short instant, she cursed him for having stayed – Perhaps Dr. Akagi had been right with her cynical assessment that it was less a question of whether he would recover, and more one of how long he could hold out.

Even now, she stayed at his side, brought her paperwork with her and made herself comfortable at the edge of his bed, abusing an old folder as a blotter pad, taking a little reading lamp with her and even some drinks and snacks, giving him a half-joking warning to stay away from her beer whenever she absolutely couldn't avoid leaving the room.

She had even taken her phone with her , although its first bout of clamant ringing forced her to admit, rather sheepishly, that it might have been a lot more productive if she had set it to vibrate right away. "Yes? Hyuuga-kun? No, I can't come today, you'll just have to do it without me."

Since there was neither a battle nor any mayor experiment taking place right now, she had resolved to stay here to look after Shinji and do today's paperwork at home.

That the boy was very relevant to her superiors was, at very least, a pretty good excuse. She did not envy all the single mothers who did not have this privilege.

But now that she thought about it, she wondered who had stayed at his side whenever he was sick before he had come here, especially when he was younger… who had consoled him whenever he had unpleasant dreams, who had been there for him in all those little moments of weakness that were part of life, growing up and its different stages and anyway-

"…Please… stay with me…"

"Uh, I'm… right here."

"Please don't… leave me all alone… I don't wanna… be alone, not now…"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"…please, someone… anyone… stay with me…"

With comprehending disillusionment, Misato was forced to conclude that these words of despair hadn't been addressed at her in the first place – He was muttering to himself, in his sleep. Must be the fever. They could really do without that, too. It shouldn't surprise her.

"I… I'm right here." She whispered to him regardless of that, hoping that her words would still trickle through somehow and change that dream in so far that it would deviate from whatever bitter memory it was probably based on, most notably through the retroactive insertion of a source of warmth and comfort – If Ritsuko were here, she would probably explain in detail why that didn't work like this, but Misato didn't care.

His mumbling was no longer intelligible, but there was still an understated stirring, and then a sudden, unpredictable movement, he just turned around and the next moment, his head was on her lap, leaving her no chance to keep doing her paperwork or removing herself from this place without waking him.

That, however, did the trick, her presence, her warmth, her smell or all of it together: From then onwards, he remained as he was, silent and calm, like a peaceful little baroque putto.

Sure, Misato could understand why he'd like this, but she herself could only comment this awkward situation with a notably self-ironic grin.

Nonetheless, she did tentatively pat his head.

"It's okay, I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere…"

Later that day (The leader of the operations division had eventually escaped the unscheduled cuddling session) there was a knock on the front door, and once again, Misato was met with the faces of two particular boys – The two who had been in the entry plug, Aida and Suzuhara, carrying yet another pile of printouts with them.

Of course, she had to tell them that the Third Child was in no shape to see them, but this time at least, she would make sure that he was well aware of their visit.

The next time she found him mostly awake, she demonstratively pulled the door wide open and ceremonially dumped the papers on his desk, not caring whether she had gone overboard with the enthusiasm in her voice or not. She wanted to communicate this to him, and if this required the subtlety of a cartoonish anvil hitting him on the head, then so be it! Extreme situations required extreme measures, and this included talking in a silly singsong: "Oh, Shin-chaaaan, here are your printouts for schoool! Aida-kun and Suzuhaaaaara-kun just dropped by to bring them to you!"

Misato could hardly believe his expression when he heard that.

He was happy.

Boy, what was he happy, blissful even, in a tired and bittersweet manner, like a dying man's last smile.

It seemed like too much, almost morbid to feel such joy about such a relatively small thing – She guessed that he, too, wouldn't have been able to explain himself if she had asked him why he was smiling like this, and why it was followed by a sudden, final liberations of both pent-up tears and something else that he had held back for a long, long time, the greatest lump having been there ever since the battle, but there were also older, deeper things coming loose, sediments and crusts of emotions, nourished over a long time by a constant suffering like some sort of gallstone.

It was the sort of smile that came with a certain finality, that formed when nothing else would do the situation justice.

It was now when she saw the healing process set it, pullulating from beneath like something wild and foreign, raw and soft, almost a little unpleasant in the way it broke through layers of hardened scabs, that she really understood that he must have lost something irreplaceable here, somewhere over the course of his stay here in Tokyo-3.

The person who arrived in this city roughly a month ago would never leave it, and she wondered if he was aware of that, or if he only saw his current self that was silently smiling before her, defined only through that arcane source from which his very thoughts sprang forth through unfathomable processes, new as the day, fleeting like the moment.

When she looked at the person lying in that bed right now, she saw someone battle scarred.

It was apparent that he felt the pain of it, but he was too young to understand what it truly meant to have his innocence ripped from him like that – But she knew it all the better, and the next thing she knew, she found her hand unconsciously sliding over her chest, where she had once been marked – He didn't have such an obvious, telltale mark on him, whatever the EVA and the angel had done with his nerves and his soul, the cruel hands of fate had passed through the upper layers of his skin like ghosts, leaving them untouched in appearance, and because he could not yet understand nor cry for this loss, she would do it for him and feel it for them both.

Maybe the knowledge that these two had come to see him was all it took, there were all sorts of stories about placebo effect, the psychological components of recovery and little miracles – or it might just be a coincidence, Misato didn't really care.

Either way, by the next morning, the fever was gone and he sat up, asking her to open the windows, pull aside the drapes and let in some daylight and fresh air.

After she'd brought him his breakfast, he already seemed to feel like engaging in proper activities other than lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling.

"So what would you like to do?" she asked, noticing that his cassette player was still untouched on his nightstand.

"I… I don't really know, I just want to… _do_ something again, just something…"

Because he could not think of anything else, he just grabbed his blanket, made himself comfortable on the couch and turned the TV on.

She didn't know what to think of his way of absorbing the various TV shows without expression, only to listlessly switch from one channel to the next after a seemingly arbitrary amount of time had passed, as if he were some sort of stranger only peripherally related to the many facets of humanity displayed on these screens.

Still, she had work to do.

After a while, PenPen, who had gloriously slept in today waddled into the living room, and spontaneously decided that he also felt like situating himself on the couch in front of the good old goggle box, and as Shinji made room for the bird, he already seemed capable to comment this with a thin smile, and since he hadn't bothered to put on his socks, Misato could see that those scrapes on his feet had mostly already vanished by then.

On this day, she decided to go back to work, since the Third Child appeared to be doing better – After all, she couldn't leave all her duties to the poor Hyuuga-kun, if she was honest with herself, she probably took advantage of him far too often. She had been intending to make it up to him for what felt like an eternity, but she already knew that something would always end up getting in the way, that those little favors she owed him would accumulate until she gave up on her plans – Leaving Shinji on his own this soon also tugged a little on her conscience, but as soon as she had gone back to work and inspected the many piles of paper that had accumulated on her desk, her routine took over and before long, there was a moment where she ceased to have the thought that she had a "situation" to take care of constantly present in her head – As soon as her level of worry fell below a certain threshold that made it an urgent, acute thing that required immediate attention, her laziness seemed to overturn all of her resolutions… How did this happen?

When she came home, she halfheartedly tried to keep Shinji from doing any housework, telling him to wait until he had properly recovered, but she couldn't make herself sound all too convincing – Over the past few weeks, she had learned to appreciate the advantages of a clean home where she didn't have to spend twenty minutes searching for her things, and at the end of the day, it was _him_ who carried a nicely decorated tablet into her room and put it on her desk as she typed away on her laptop – If she was honest, she hadn't even turned around to face him, and just casually mumbled a few short words of thanks – _Some_ guardian she was…

She had planned to eat breakfast with him, too, at very least the next day, if not for anything else then to strengthen that newly blooming, developing feeling of belonging, or at least of being home so that it might tie him to this place, even if she could not quite agree with herself whether that was a gesture of care or a cheap psychological trick used on a helpless victim – either way, her inner conflict was rendered moot by a disadvantageous combination of her vespertine beer dosage and staying up way past bed time.

By the time she woke up she found her apartment flooded with sunlight, her breakfast lovingly prepared and ready to be eaten, complete with a can of beer waiting right next to her plate, and, once again, absolutely no trace of the Third Child.

It did sting, the situation and how it stirred her memories of the last time he had disappeared from this house – but this time, it took no detective work to figure out where he had gone – His school bag was missing from his room, and so was the school uniform he had prepared a long time ago, not knowing what the next day would hold for him, leaving only an unused hanger.

* * *

><p>"And…? How is your flat mate?"<p>

"Well enough, I think. I guess the entire event has knitted us together a little… and not just us. He's been going to school again and ever since, he's been inseparable from that chaos duo from the incident. They phone him, they invite him to spend their free time together… Even if I still don't always grasp what exactly he is thinking…"

"I'd think that you'd have him figured out by now, after all, it's not like it's your first time living together with a man."

"This isn't really comparable to eight years ago. There's no romance involved…"

"I wouldn't be sure of that. If you ask me, Shinji-kun probably stayed because of you."

"No, you're wrong… the real reason… is his father. I think he'd do just about anything for a few words of praise or a pat on the shoulder from him…

He's just lonely and longing for affection…"

"…that he won't be getting from his father. You're very alike…"

"I just wonder why commander Ikari acts so cold towards his own son. He's a lot friendlier around Rei. That doesn't seem fair at all…"

"That's just what men are like, egoistic and uncaring… Believe me, I'm speaking from experience…"

"It's tough to be a woman nowadays, isn't it?"

"Anyway, it's time. We need to go back."

"Always the worker bee, hm? Oh, by the way, would you like to stop by for dinner tomorrow?"

"I'll pass. I've still got a few 'fond' memories of your culinary 'skills'…"

"Aw, come on!"

"Alright, but there are important experiments scheduled for tomorrow… what about the day after?"

"Deal."

* * *

><p>"Your son's behavior is exactly as we predicted it…"<p>

"Yeah. Next, we'll have to bring him and Rei closer together. Everything is going according to plan."

"After a plan that was crafted 14 years ago, a plan that predetermines the entire lives of mere teenagers… It's a cruel plan."

* * *

><p>(1) I assumed that Gendo &amp; co were not yet aware of Kaworu's existence at this point. Mari was classified as Fourth Child by principle of exclusionbecause that's the number between three and five, but I think a recently translated bit of CR confirmed her as such. This does not mean that Touji can't get another designation. Har Har.

(2) …so, will we be finding out something about that mysterious blue haired girl that has been lurking in Shinji's vicinity until now? Of course we will! Team blue, rejoice! Look forward to chapter 11: [The Commander's Smile]


	12. 11: The Commander's Smile

**11: [The Commander's Smile]**

* * *

><p><em>In the middle of a house<em>

_In the middle of nowhere_

_Bodies glide from room to room_

_I hate these walls_

_They speak to me:_

_"Hey, skin like a doll_

_You're no friend_

_Of the family"_

_Catch that light_

_It falls in subtle patterns_

_Crawls in_

_And tells them when their time is up_

_And when it's over_

_He takes her hand_

_and he kisses her cheek_

_She's a doll, oh yeah,_

_She's his_

_Spitting image_

_Where have you gone?_

_You're still a part of me_

_Hey, skin like a doll_

_You're no friend _

_Of the family_

_-The Toadies, 'Dollskin'_

* * *

><p>Rather relieved to see Shinji back at school when they did, Touji and Kensuke wasted little time to fully accept him as one of their own, and before long, they had agreed to walk to school together on a regular basis, and found themselves on the schoolyard discussing the specifics of when and where to meet… completely oblivious to the silent blue-haired girl watching them from within the building, her lone red eye unwaveringly transfixed on them while her other one was still hidden beneath a patch.<p>

* * *

><p>Once again, there was this dream.<p>

While the overall number of his subconscious effusions had more or less normalized by now, that one dream never ceased to pursue him. No three days passed in which his attempts to find nocturnal rest did not land him on that beach at least once.

Each and every time, he'd have the certain feeling that he'd found himself here innumerable times, even if he could never remember when that had been, other than in these dreams themselves.

How could he, anyway? The red streak in the sky, the extent of the destruction, that _dismembered female corpse_ the size of a _continent_, and on top of it all, these monoliths…

As much as Shinji's definition of impossible had already been stretched by recent events, the odds of such a surreal place really existing were rather… insignificant.

Regardless of whatever this place was, he was certain that it was the loneliest, most desolate place he ever witnessed.

Not just because of the images themselves, but much more the emotions that inevitably came with them, like the background music of a movie scene; He had no idea what had caused the feelings to stir, it was as if he had suddenly sipped to the end of a film of which he had neither seen the rest not the prequels, and yet, it was unmistakably the end, the images spoke for themselves, even without that doubtless premonition that he would always be completely alone, no matter how many times he awakened here, a single, insignificant dot of life amidst a boundless, empty world that had been returned to its primal, lifeless state, as if the complete planet itself with everything that used to sprout and crawl on its surface had simply croaked like an upside-down goldfish in a poorly maintained aquarium, as if that same eternal cycle of life that had endlessly found a way to renew itself through the ages, and even found a way to recuperate after the hell of second impact, however decimated it had been left, had simply ground to a halt once and for all.

At first, he could make little sense of these feelings, but now, after having stood here countless times, after having _felt_ them countless times, he had come to take them as a sign that he would never see any of all these people he had met, not ever again.

Over and over, he wondered what on earth he must have done to deserve this cruel a punishment, why only he had been left behind here.

Rather strange, wasn't it?

This was a dream, right? So obviously, he was here because he had gone to bed last night, at most, this might be a reason to question the quality of his supper. Dreams had never needed much in the way of logical reasons for the bizarre sights they provided, and ultimately, they weren't real, so did it really matter that much what exactly he was doing here, if it was just a dream?

The point may have been that somehow, this did not _feel_ like 'just' a dream…

And that this may have been the reason why he kept being plagued by the same storm of questions that would have haunted him if he had actually woken up in such a place without any prior warning.

A few nights ago, he had noticed that those large, cross-shaped monoliths bore a distinct similarity to Evangelions. They had separate legs, albeit held closely together, and those recognizable armor plates on their lower chest and stomach.

What was definitely missing, however, were these pylons on the shoulders that the knives were usually stored in. In addition to that, they were completely white or gray, so for once, unit one couldn't be amongst them.

Still, could it be his connection to the Evangelions that had landed him in this godforsaken wasteland?

Until now, they had served to connect him to people rather than separate him, but what… if he should lose? What if it all blew up in his face…?

Was that what had happened? Had he failed?

Was that the reason he was all one?

Deserted, because he hadn't been good enough?

Just like when his father had deserted him?

That notion… seems rather probable.

He still didn't think that he could really do this…

But, if everything had ended, why was _he_ still here?

Questions, endless questions, amongst them the question as to whether there still was any point in opening his eyes and looking at his surroundings – After all, he had seen this particular dreamscape innumerable times, and what awaited him there rarely ever changed.

It was always the same – He was always alone, always asking himself, why there was nobody here to find him, even if he already knew very well that no one was coming.

Why would anyone ever come here for his sake, anyway?

He just wasn't worth it…

But… hadn't there once been an instance where someone actually _did_ come for him and him alone, such a long, long time ago? He wasn't sure, it felt like eternities had passed since then, like it might have been in another lifetime altogether, or just a long-faded dream.

Maybe… maybe there _was_ someone here.

Perhaps somewhere in this empty world, there was someone who had followed him when he had been cast out to this desert.

Not that he ever meant enough to anyone for them to choose this hell for his sake; Not that he would actually deserve it if all of this devastation was indeed his fault.

For that, the person in question would have to love him beyond the boundaries of sanity, and there wasn't anything about him that was particularly deserving of love.

He didn't dare open his eyes, for he was already certain that there was only disappointment for them to discover, but even then, that could not keep his fingers from feeling around the tiniest bit with their searching tips.

He allowed himself to wish, like he had never done it in any of the previous iterations of the dream.

If only someone was here… if only someone was here _with him…_ He didn't care who it was as long as he no longer would have to be alone in this horrible place, as long as there was anyone who could love him…

He knew that he didn't deserve it, but after all that had happened, he could no longer deny that he desired it with every fiber of his being.

That was the reason he couldn't bring himself to give up this possibility;

That was why he hadn't left Tokyo-3 after all.

That's why he kept searching, feeling his way until he actually felt something _other_ than the ground.

He couldn't believe it.

Here, in this lonely, empty world.

Here, within the minuscule reach of his halfheartedly searching hand.

Something warm.

It couldn't be, could it?

That would be far too crazy a coincidence? _This_ close to him?

That would have to mean that someone _deliberately_ sought him out, that they were here _because of him, _and would have to have placed themselves this close to him by their own choice.

No matter how he looked at it, there was a human hand, there was a source of human warmth.

Someone who had come to him because they needed him.

Somebody who loved him.

Immediately, he seized the delicate, petite fingers with his own, squeezing them into all of the little lines and gaps of his flesh.

He could have broken down in tears right there and then.

This… this wasn't possible, this couldn't be, he didn't deserve this, there was no way this was anything other than a misunderstanding…

He wondered who exactly followed him here.

Who was the person who had missed him, the one who had loved him?

Well, it certainly wasn't his father, the fingers were too slim, too small to be his; Most likely, they were a girl's.

A girl who loved him.

A girl… who could that be?

Because of his young age and timid personality, Shinji had yet to acquire any significant experiences with the opposite sex…

Even still, that cue caused his consciousness to produce countless images of one Ayanami Rei.

Why Rei? Because she was the first girl around his age he could think of? Because of that habit of hers to show up in his dreams without explanation?

It could have been just that simple, but it wasn't. There was more, an entire deluge of pent-up feelings whose origin was unknown to him.

Feelings that made him have these thoughts of Rei.

Rei in her plugsuit, covered in bandages, breathing heavily in his arms.

Rei, all alone in a corner of their classroom, staring out of the window.

Rei in the schoolyard, looking down at him as she spoke.

Rei, completely alone and lost in the middle of an abandoned street – When was that again? He couldn't quite remember.

Rei, Rei, Rei, memories of Rei, images, that he shouldn't have seen yet – All of his being was filled to the brim with Rei, and he was nearing the point of bursting.

Could it be her?

Could she be the one who had come here to find him?

No… that would be far too perfect to be true – and therefore, it wasn't.

The very moment Shinji had overcome his fear of the unavoidable emptiness and loneliness of this place, he was forced to realize that there was no one lying next to him, and that there had never been anyone to begin with.

He had been clinging to a single, severed arm.

He couldn't even summon up the energy to react with disgust and let go of the lone limb.

It just wasn't fair.

He was so very, very alone…

And the fault was his own.

His fault.

Yes, now he remembered.

His fault.

It had been him.

He was the one who had created this empty, wasted world and then possessed the audacity to come back.

He couldn't say how in the name of god he had done it, or what had driven him to this desperate measure, but he was sure that all he was seeing here was the result of his very own actions.

It was hardly a secret that there wasn't anyone else here with him.

He was nothing but an egotistical, weak, dishonest _coward_.

He deserves this, every bit of this, this and nothing else.

And he didn't even have the energy to run away anymore.

"I see." Shinji's pendant from this dream said, surrendering to his fate in complete and utter resignation, weighed down by endless losses his current self could not even begin to comprehend.

"I guess I'll never see them again… but now that I'm here, I might as well keep on living…"

When Shinji finally opened his eyes, he found his whole body drenched in sweat. He'd had quite a share of nightmares in his life, especially since he had come here, be they about the battles, about his father and, most recently, about that attempt on his life, but this had most definitely been the most awful of them all.

That overwhelming feeling of loneliness… just thinking of it gave him chills.

The ceiling above him has long since turned into a familiar sight even without the aftereffects of those dreams, but that had only made that once fleeting impression that he was supposed to be hearing a girl's voice somewhere in this house all the more persistent.

By the time Shinji had sat up, all of it had more or less passed, and the rapidly fading memory of the dream was no longer coherent anymore for him to make sense of the reaction it caused, but that in itself was enough to make Shinji wonder just how much crazier his life was going to get.

He had yet to speak a single word about this woman… no, this thing he had encountered near that spring.

But much like the dream, even that event led his thoughts back to the person they had been circling ever since he moved here: Ayanami Rei.

The more he considered it, the more absurdly random it seemed to him that she of all people had appeared to him within that nightmare.

After all, when he really thought about it, they had hardly exchanged a handful of sentences ever since he moves to Tokyo-3.

True as it was, that conclusion felt rather dissuading, if not disappointing to him.

Even if he felt like she had been part of his life for eternities, the truth was that she was barely more than a complete stranger to him. Why was that? The former part, not just the latter. Because he'd thought about her so much?

But what did that really mean, to think about her?

Yes, he had been thinking _of_ her a lot, but not really _about_ her in the shape of concrete facts and reflections about them – for that, he would have needed to know such facts first, but all he really knew was her name, and that she was supposed to be an EVA pilot just like him.

He was suddenly hit by the sobering conclusion that he didn't really have a clue about her, and couldn't really claim to have any substantial connection to her, and it washed over him like a cold shower.

Somehow he had always counted her amongst his new social circle, always watched her from the distance, observing as the amount of bandages on her body slowly, but steadily diminished.

She was the reason he was here.

His father had called him here because she was injured and unfit for duty.

Because he hadn't wanted to send her into battle like that.

And Shinji didn't even know the reason for her injuries.

* * *

><p>After Shinji had gotten dressed, made breakfast, and packed a lunch for himself, he was getting ready to leave for school as he usually did. Misato had left the house earlier today, stating that she had something urgent to take care of at NERV, some sort of security concern, apparently.<p>

He had a distinct feeling that it had to be related to the newspaper article he found lying on the kitchen table – allegedly, the Tokyo-3-serial killer had struck again. And that worried Shinji more than the average citizen of this town – because he was very damn sure that this security lady had riddled that thing with bullets before his very eyes. Then again, who knew if such a… being could actually be stopped with bullets _at all_? The implications of this train of thoughts were so frightening and mind-numbing that Shinji frantically pressed them into some remote corner of his consciousness to concentrate on some of the more…. bearable aspect of his waking hours.

This thing had only walked into him by chance, hadn't it? So far, it appeared to have been choosing its victims at random, so there was no reason to suspect that it was after him in particular, was there?

If it was really after him, there would have been plenty of opportunities to kill him in the past week, right? But nothing of that sort had happened.

While it was true that his life had been getting crazier and crazier as of late, the last week hadn't been that much of a prime example – in fact, aside from the strange dreams, it had been surprisingly normal, if not almost… pleasant.

By now, he'd been beginning to get the gist of how to make sense of Misato's moods and begun to talk to her a little more freely, not about the big questions of life or his innermost worries, but at least about whatever normal, everyday things he may have done that day, and getting to just relax a little and getting to know each other bit by bit by conversing about a bit of trivia from time to time was not really all that bad.

Of course, there were still moments in which he felt isolated and found himself questioning whether this went anywhere beyond superficial pleasantries, well aware that it was only a matter of time before he would be forced into another of this horrible, terrifying battles when the next angel inevitably arrived, but he no longer felt that way _all the time_, especially not at school.

Ever since last week, he would often encounter Touji and Kensuke at some point of his way to school, where he would usually turn off his SDAT-player and join them – honestly smiling from the bottom of his heart and deeply grateful for the first two proper friends he ever had.

They would talk to him during recess and in-between periods, made jokes about the old teacher or the stuffy class representative, and generally attempted to drag him into various sorts of 'boys stuff'.

He could hardly believe how naturally it had happened – At first, he had needed to get used to be in a 'conversation-situation' that often, and even without warning, but after the first few of Touji's jokes, Shinji had gotten over his initial nervousness, and before he knew, he had reached the point where he was more or less freely interacting with them without having to think about every single word and carefully weigh their possible reactions against each other, as if it was the most obvious thing imaginable, something he had always been meant to do this every day, and only hindered by a string of adverse circumstances until now.

On the second day, Touji and Kensuke had received the first praise the class representative had given them in what could have been centuries for 'successfully integrating the new kid into their class', and after that, even all the others seemed to accept the sight of the three of them hanging out together as the new status quo.

And even Touji and Kensuke themselves appeared completely used to welcoming Shinji with an amicable greeting when he entered the classroom in the morning, as if it never had been any different. Today was no exception.

"Hi, Ikari!" they called, waving in his direction –

Perhaps Shinji himself was the only one who still wasn't completely used to it.

Hesitantly returning their wave, he removed his headphones and walked over to them, becoming part of one of these little groups he had only walked past before.

"Hello, you two." He tentatively returned their greeting. "It's, uh, nice to see you."

"The pleasure's all ours." Touji replied. "But do tell, where did you disappear to yesterday?"

"I uh… I was at NERV. Did I miss something important?"

"No, not really." Touji admitted. "We just did some repetitions in math class, and as for the history period, there was nothing but the usual lecture on second impact."

"What exactly where you doing at NERV, anyway?" asked Kensuke, eager to know. "Some more Pilot-training?"

"Something like that." Shinji confirmed. "Ritsuko-san from the technical Branch and her co-workers came up with some new battle simulations they wanted me to try…"

"Wow! Real battle simulations! With _holodecks_ and stuff? I can't believe how lucky you are! That sure sounds a lot more fun that sitting around at school."

"It… it wasn't really that exciting…" Shinji answered. "In the end, it was just simple target practice… Although that's only natural, considering that I've never really handled actual guns or knives before, so it's probably a good thing that I have to do this considering that… the next enemy… could show up at any moment…"

Towards the end of that sentence, the young EVA pilot had begun to sound increasingly uncomfortable, and Touji could easily imagine why. Thus, he decided to change the topic before Kensuke could ask further questions. "Oh, and Ikari, did you know that you've officially lost the right to the title of 'New kid'?"

"Uh… why?"

"Because we've got a …newer new kid now." The boy in the tracksuit announced.

"Ah… really?"

"Yeah, really. He arrived yesterday while you were away. The one back there, with that bandage thing around his head. I think the name's Mitsurugi. Mitsurugi… Nanao?"

"Nagato." Kensuke corrected. "But you were close enough."

Indeed, Shinji was able to spot a new face at the back of the classroom.

The newcomer was a slender, tallboy who, matching Touji's description, was wearing a cast around his head, under which a bob of chin-length, midnight-black hair sprung forth.

Both his hair color, and the black undershirt he appeared to be wearing beneath his orderly, nigh-immaculate uniform did their part to underline his already pale-ish skin tone, though it was far from matching the pallor of one particular girl.

His steely-grey eyes were transfixed on a small mechanical puzzle he was using to keep hin fingers busy until the teacher arrived.

"Looks rather painful." Kensuke commented. "I wonder what happened to him."

But Shinji was hardly listening anymore. His thoughs were already focused on something else, for as he had directed his gaze at Mitsurugi's bandages, he'd noticed something just past him, or rather, _someone _whom he was, for the very first time, seeing _without_ bandages: Sitting two seats in front of Mitsurugi… was Ayanami Rei.

As she was currently just looking out of the window as she usually did, Shinji could once again see little more than the blue locks covering the back of her head, but it was sufficient to verify that the last of the bandages were indeed gone, including that string that had been holding that patch above her eye in place – As it seemed, her second eye appeared to be intact (again?), despite Shinji's earlier pessimistic guesses.

He'd been worrying for quite some time that she may have lost it permanently, but at least that particular worry appeared to have been unfounded.

Lately, he had been forced to get used to the idea that she _was always_ this pale by default. Her skin was hardly any darker than the white parts of her simple school uniform – with or without bandages, she still looked like she might faint and die at any given moment.

Her delicate, petite build and the ghostly color of her hair in the sunlight might have also played their parts in it.

He couldn't shake off that urge to grab her, take her into his arms and tuck her into a nice, warm bed where she would be safe and sound and wouldn't in danger of being as much as poked.

"Hey, Ikari, are you even listening?"

It was Touji's slightly annoyed voice that broke Shinji out of his further contemplations about that one girl who had held him under her inexplicable spell for the past weeks.

"Uh… what were you saying again?"

"That it's rather unusual for us to get a new classmate." Kensuke explained.

"Uh, why is that?"

"Well, look around you. It's gotten rather spacious here lately, hasn't it?" the military otaku continued. "Before the first battle, most classrooms here were bursting at the seams since Tokyo-3 was supposed to become the new capital, but for some reason, our class was always mostly spared of that rush. And now that everybody is fleeing the city because of the battles, we're the ones getting two new students, counting you. Before the battles, the only transferee we ever got was Ayanami."

"Ayanami, hm?"

Before Shinji could ask further questions, the old teacher appeared in the door, prompting the class representative to promptly assume her usual post and begin barking out orders:

"Rise! Bow! Sit down!"

* * *

><p>The following lesson turned out to be exactly as 'interesting' as many before it, so that the majority of the students were very releaved when the heavens finally took pity on them and made the school bell ring.<p>

After stuffing his belongings into his bag, he risked a glance to the latter rows, observing quietly as Ayanami unceremoniously gathered her things in comparable silence before walking right out of his field of vision.

Somehow, even watching her do trivial things like gathering her school utensils had a strangely captivating quality to it, a constant aura of strange familiarity and recognition was sewn to her footsteps.

When she left, she revealed the transferee behind her, who was hastily scribbling something unto a piece of paper – some forgotten homework, perhaps?

Shinji could only guess.

In any case, he was sitting all alone on his desk, which was hardly any surprise considering that he'd only just transferred yesterday. Shinji still remembered all too well what his first few weeks in this school had been like…

He had Touji and Kensuke now, but that didn't mean that he had forgotten what that solitude had felt like, enough to worry about whether this Mitsurugi had been able to make any friends yet.

Admittedly, it was only his second day here, but Shinji felt tempted to just spare that boy all that trouble and talk to him him… even if nothing would come of it.

Hesitantly, Shinji approached his new classmate – upon closer inspection, the papers Mitsurugi had been occupying himself with had sudokus and crossword puzzles on them, which he was steadily filling, apparently indifferent to the fact that the bell had long since rung.

His eyes were transfixed on those alone, and Shinji didn't think that the transferee had even noticed him yet, which wasn't all bad since it left the choice of the first words to Shinji.

Except that he couldn't really think of _what_ to say.

And as it happened far too often, his luck left him as soon as his courage: Sooner or later, the black-haired transferee would have to peer beyond his sudokus, and the variant that destiny chose to pick was 'sooner.'

So it came to pass that Shinji suddenly became aware that Mitsurugi appeared to have been looking up towards him for quite some time now, probably waiting for him to say something.

Notably hindered by his disconcertment, Shinji's brain went through a list of possible conversation topics… oh right, he hadn't even introduced himself yet; Introductions were a good place to start.

"G-Good morning, Mitsurugi…-san… I… I'm, uh, Ikari Shinji. I just thought I should introduce myself since I was, uh, absent yesterday."

Mitsurugi's expression didn't reveal much about his inner reactions, if any.

"Thank you. I wish you a good morning as well, Ikari-san." He stated, polite, yet dry. "The others mentioned you a lot. You're the 'old' 'new kid', aren't you?"

"E-Exactly!" Shinji answered with a hectic nod.

After that, he fell silent, at a loss for words which was exasperated by Mitsurugi looking at him without any words of his own.

He figured that all of this might have been a lot easier if either of them had been of the talkative kind that asks lots of questions.

Shinji wondered just _what_ the others had said about him.

But first, he had to think about something else to talk about, preferably before recess was over.

"I think we have , uh… PE next." It spontaneously occurred to him.

"Would you like me to show you the way to the gym…?

Or… do you think you can find it on your own?"

Mitsurugi shook his head.

"Thank you for your offer, but you don't have to bother yourself with that…"

"I really don't mind at all!" Shinji assured.

"That's not what I meant. I'm not going."

And then, it hit him quite bluntly.

Of course. Whatever had demolished this boy's head to the point that he would need that cast probably hadn't left him in any state to participate in any sort of sports.

It was rather depressing to notice just how 'gloriously' he'd dropped that huge a brick this early in this conversation. "I'm, uh, very sorry, what I meant was… er… in any case I'm really sorry."

"Hey, Ikari!" Time was already up.

That was Touji's voice, and when Shinji slightly turned to face him, he saw that he also had Kensuke with him, both of them armed with their PE bags. Kensuke's was, of course, covered in a camouflage pattern.

"…what are you standing around here for? The class rep's gonna give us hell if we're late!"

"We can, ehm, leave right away!" Shinji answered, having taken his bag with him when he left his desk.

"And we wouldn't mind you coming with us either if you want to." Kensuke told Mitsurgi. But the transferee just shook his head again.

"He isn't going." Shinji explained.

"I see." Touji answered. "Did you give the class rep some medical attestation stating that you can't participate?"

"You mean Horaki-san? No, I… haven't, I'm I afraid I've neglected to do that…" the bandaged boy admitted. "But I do have an attestation."

"Then you should give it to her ASAP. She's the one who handles the class register and all that other organizational stuff, and believe me, she can be a real pain in the ass when she wants to."

"Or wait. What if _we_ give it to her?" Kensuke proposed. "I doubt we can catch up to her before she reaches the sports grounds, but we can at least give it to her on the way back before she gets a chance to chew you out."

"That would be very kind of you. You have my earnest gratitude." Mitsurugi replied, fairly matter-pf-factly and accompanied by a small nod, before handing the three of them a paper which Kensuke was quick to pouch before rushing after Touji, who had already departed by the beginning of the second sentence, optimistically following some futile hope of reaching the locker room in time.

Shinji left the 'new new kid' a few sparse parting words before hurrying after his friends.

"I feel kind of sorry for the transferee." Touji told his friends as they caught up with him. "He's missing PE, the only time at school where they actually give you good grades for having fun."

"That depends on whether you actually consider sports to be fun." Kensuke objected.

"I just end up falling on my face. But I guess most people tend to enjoy the kind of things they're good at."

"What about you, Ikari?" Touji asked the newest member of their small group. "Do you enjoy sports?"

"I… don't really know…"

That he never really had the heart to ask the other children in his small village to let him play with them was something he chose to keep to himself at this point. "I… I just hope I won't end up getting hit in the face by a ball…"

"You won't have to worry about that for a while – They're making us run laps for today, not that this is particularly comforting considering the sheer heat outside…" Kensuke admitted. "The girls got lucky today, they get to go swimming while we're forced to bake in the sun…"

But Touji had a more relaxed view of the situation: "Well, at least we'll have a nice view of the pool from the sports grounds – something else poor Mitsurugi is going to miss." He explained, adorning his scheming with a telltale grin that made the… indecent nature of his thoughts fairly obvious. While Kensuke was soon 'infected' by similar… thought material, Shinji's deliberations had gone into a whole different direction.

He was easily able to picture quite well that couldn't be all too pleasant to stay behind in the classroom by oneself, while everyone else was enjoying themselves under the sun, thought it wasn't primarily Mitsurugi he was thinking of – It was only his second day here, there was no good reason why he couldn't acquire himself a sizeable group of friends within this week.

But there was someone else.

Someone who had spent the last weeks alone in that classroom, regardless of whether the others had gym class or not.

He'd never seen her with someone else; In all the time he's spent in this classroom, he hadn't seen her talking with anybody at all, not even once.

There was simply no way he could have overlooked the only person who had been every bit as alone as he had been: Ayanami Rei.

But now, he had Touji and Kensuke.

He was no longer alone, at least not always –

But Rei still was.

And she had been all along.

He couldn't say why, but by now, he was more than certain.

That poor girl...

Knowing the hell of solitude well enough, he could only perceive the very thought that this brave, yet fragile girl might be enduring a similar suffering as the kind of injustice that ought to cry out to the heavens.

* * *

><p>The dimensions of the track forced the teachers to divide the boys of the class II-A into two groups, which would then subsequently granted the questionable privilege to spend twelve minutes jogging in the blazing sun one after the other.<p>

While the first group was already enduring its ordeal, the second one was still waiting for its cruel fate – among them, one Ikari Shinji.

Most of the boys were passing the time before the exercise with looking up towards the pool on the roof of the adjacent building, where the girls were practicing aquatic sports in their black school-issue swimsuits.

But Shinji's gaze went past all of the tanned beauties and their opulent bodies made of splendorous curves.

All of the girls were pretty, but he could hardly apart, couldn't name the differences between them. In the end, his eyes ended up scorning them all in favor of the sickly-looking, short-haired girl in the corner, who stood out like an oasis in an endless desert. His undivided attention rested solely on this pale, frail being who was sitting all alone in a corner, with her legs drawn close to her body like some sort of lost, forgotten child.

Something about the sight depressed him beyond words…

But Shinji had forgotten that he wasn't the only one letting his gaze drift to these scantily clad females – more than enough for them to ineluctably notice:

"Hey, could you please give me my towel?" one of them asked. "The boys are staring at us again."

"Suzuhara is the worst of them!"

"But Ikari is quite cute, isn't he? ….HEY! IKARI-KUN!"

Blatant as they may have been, those gestures of flattery did not really enter Shinji's perception, as little the somewhat "indecent" comments of his currently rather entertained friends did – Too deeply had he allowed himself to get lost in his deliberations about the subject of his own deliberations.

But even this did not go unnoticed for long – After the class representative and her friends had hidden their thighs beneath their towels, Touji decided out of spontaneous curiosity to check out whatever his friends were looking at. Since Kensuke appeared to have had the same idea as him, Touji could assume that the person whose butt his friend had been ogling had either covered herself or reached her turn to jump into the pool.

Shinji, by contrast, was still firmly gazing into one and the same direction, as if he had completely forgotten all of the world surrounding him.

"Hey, Sir, what'cha lookin' at so intently?" Touji inquired with a huge grin on his face.

"U-Uh, nowhere in particular…" Shinji stammered nervously, suddenly aware that his observations carried a sizeable risk for misunderstandings.

But it was already too late: Kensuke, who had now leaned backward to addresses the two of them, had easily spotted where, or rather, _who_ Shinji's looks had been directed at, and didn't seem adverse to sharing his conclusion: "Ayanami, by any chance?"

"What would make you think that?" Shinji asked in a desperate attempt to avoid a significant misunderstanding – he certainly hadn't been looking at her... like _that_…

But the damage was already done, and denying it any further would probably just serve as a confirmation to his friends: "I've been _looking_ at you!" Kensuke declared. "You've been undressing her with your eyes!"

"While you were dreaming of her shapely boobies!" Touji added. "…of her soft thighs and especially… of WHAT'S IN BETWEEN THEM!"

That last bit had more or less been chanted in unison as they had come uncomfortably close to Shinji's face, causing him to retreat a bit after they were done speaking.

"It _really_ wasn't like that…" he tried again, not really believing that he could still escape being branded as a lecher.

"Why were you looking at her, then?" Kensuke replied, more as a rhetoric question than anything else. "Because you _were_ looking, don't even bother denying it!"

Averting his brooding face from his friends, Shinji finally revealed the truth: "I was just wondering… why she's always all alone…"

Kensuke and Touji, who hadn't been expecting such a serious answer, brought themselves back into mostly normal positions.

None of them had ever really thought about that.

"Hm… I don't know either." Touji admitted.

"But what you say is true… I don't think she's made a single friend since she transferred to this school last year…"

"Well, it's not like she ever talks to anyone." Kensuke added. "She's just sitting there quietly and staring into the air…"

"She just doesn't seem approachable…"

"She might have a bad personality, and that's why no one wants to hang around with her."

"Or maybe she's just a little bit retarded or something…"

Shinji had to admit that he had never looked at it like this – If he was honest, he really couldn't recall any instance where she had as much as tried to speak or socialize with anyone, or even really _looked_ at them.

While Shinji thought that it was a stretch to immediately jump to such conclusions as her being a bad person, or even 'retarded', (Or perhaps he was in disbelief that it could be something this… common?) there was no denying that Rei must have partially caused her isolation herself, or, at least, hadn't managed to actively counteract it.

But none of these scenarios seemed like a complete master theory to explain every single detail of the situation, and it wasn't like he knew her well enough to just go and draw any conclusions about her. It wouldn't be fair to judge her without having ever talked to her properly – and as often as he had thought about it and imagined in his head what turns a conversation with her could possibly take, he didn't thing that he would ever work up the courage to approach her…

It was rather disheartening.

Still, before Shinji had any chance to tax his thinking organ any further, the teacher's whistle could be heard – A certain sign that his friends and he could no longer escape the horrors of the twelve-minute-walk.

Not that Shinji cared any longer; he had long since slipped out of the suitable mood for this sort of half-serious complaint.

There was something very different that occupied his inside in its entirety, and let everything on the outside just drift past him:

The enigma of Ayanami Rei.

"…but… isn't she an EVA pilot just like you?" Kensuke asked, already in motion. "Shouldn't you know her better than any of us?"

"That's right…" Touji agreed.

But that hardly helped to relieve Shinji of his rotten mood, or the ocean of questions swirling around in his head.

It only confirmed the sad realization that he'd already arrived at by himself: Despite their shared fate, and what might soon become a shared suffering as well, Rei and him didn't really have anything to do with each other.

"It's true…" Shinji finally admitted, resigned. "…but we still hardly talk to each other…"

That afternoon, NERV's schedule involved yet another harmonix-test, this time one that would be carried out directly in the cages, so Shinji would actually be sitting in his Evangelion – but he wouldn't be alone.

For the first time since the incident that had caused her wounds, Ayanami was to participate in the experiments once against.

Nonetheless, there was yet another appointment on the Third Child's timetable before the test itself – Misato had offered Dr. Akagi to meet her at the grounds on which the last battle, so that she could be informed about the current state of the research and investigation taking place here – Like her predecessor, the fifth angel had almost instantly disintegrated into red, viscous goo upon her defeat, but unlike him, she had left something behind in this world: Her now congealed tentacles of light that had still been embedded in Unit One's abdomen at the time of her death.

Now, long after they had been salvaged and covered in enormous tents and pavilions, NERV's scientists were having the time of their lives as they gathered and analyzed samples from the material.

In his memories, those whips had been fast, flexible, deadly and bright as a magnesium flame; Now, he was standing in front of colossal, rigid, concrete grey structures of monumental dimensions which had been significantly less apparent from within the Evangelion, considering that its own size was not exactly shabby.

The dully-colored matter bore little resemblance to the weapons which had pierced him, or rather, EVA 01, to the point where he probably wouldn't have recognized them if he hadn't received an explanations beforehand; At its edges, the substance appeared affected by a strange kind of decay that left its borders looking somewhat blurred, or perhaps like a fading picture on an old photograph in the process of crumbling away.

Most of the pool of blood which had resulted from the creature's explosion had already been disposed of, even if the liquid's characteristic stench still lingered in the air, enough to be perceived clearly if you concentrated on it and perhaps to irritate the occasional subconscious.

Seeing it like this certainly did present Shinji with a wholly different way to see and perceive the enemy than facing it in battle did; When he was fighting it, struggling against the force and vehemence of an enormous monster that seemed determined to put the fear of God into him, he was, first and foremost concerned with destroying the enemy so that he might survive – that left to time to spend wondering about things like the enemy's nature and composition.

"It's a strange feeling to see the enemy up close…" Shinji remarked, summarizing his impressions so far.

He and Misato had finally managed to find Dr. Akagi, who was awaiting them on some sort of scaffolding, turning towards their direction with a clipboard in one of her hands.

"Well done, Shinji-kun!" she commended from up there. "I don't know how exactly you did it, but somehow, this angel just liquefied right away instead of exploding in the process, so the damage to the surrounding area was minimal, and these crystalized 'arms' of its were left almost completely intact. Now we finally have some proper samples to do research on… and it's all thanks to you!"

Shinji didn't really know what to do with that praise – He certainly hadn't spent any second of the battle wondering whether the angel would make a good research subject afterwards, and this fortunate coincidence made it only harder for him to gauge whether any of the NERV personnel still resented him for what they could only have seen as an insubordination.

"And..?" Misato asked right away. "When will we have the first results?"

The first results were promptly shown to them in one of the quieter corners of the huge pavilion, one that was reserved for computer terminals: They consisted of exactly three digits: 6-0-1.

"And what exactly does that mean?" Misato asked.

"That's the standard error message for 'unable to analyze'…"

"So we still don't have a clue what we're up against?!"

"I'm afraid so. All we know is that the angels are composed of a form of matter that shows characteristics of both waves and particles – like solid light." the scientist reported, casually sipping at her coffee.

Misato and Shinji, who had been administered beverages of their own upon arrival, quickly followed her lead, but in their cases, the consumption of liquid was primarily intended to help the digestion of the bizarre new information.

"But you'd think that it should at least have been possible to isolate the source of that insane power of theirs…"

"Unfortunately not. Aside from these crystalized fragments here, the Angel's body has completely dissolved, along with all of its secrets…"

"Does that mean that the Angel's remains cannot give us any answers at all?"

"Not exactly…" Dr. Akagi replied, rising from her chair. "…but for every answer it gives us, it opens up ten more questions… For example, look at its wave patterns…"

The scientist quickly typed something into the keyboard and then stepped aside for Misato's and Shinji's curious eyes as they leant forward to watch a sequence of letters be replaced by a similarly labeled collection of figures and diagrams.

Unlike her ward, Misato understood their significance right away: "Is this for real?"

"Yes. Even though the tissue is composed of a form of matter that is foreign to us, it contains structures that are highly similar to human DNA. The sequences are over 99% identical. A comparison: We share over 98% with a chimpanzee and about 99,5 with a Neanderthal."

"This says 99,89…" Misato stated, astonished.

"This means that we are once again forced to acknowledge that there are still many things out there that we don't understand."

While Shinji was initially eying the monitor in a rather clueless manner, he was soon distracted by the sound of nearby steps as the two women were still speaking.

When he turned his head towards the two passing men, it was simple, casual curiosity that motivated him, but the emotions that made his eyes stay on them were of a very different nature.

They were Vice-Commander Fuyutsuki Kozo… and Commander Ikari Gendo.

Most likely, they didn't even take notice of Shinji's presence as they were marching towards a group of scientists who were busying themselves with a compact-car-sized shard of the angel's whip arms, while some of their colleagues were working on the area which that piece had been cut from.

They were received by a tall man in his mid-thirties who wore his jet-black hair way past his shoulders despite his age. Underneath his lab coat, he was wearing a NERV uniform much like the one Hyuuga and Aoba tended to wear, and as he saw his superiors approach, he reached for the clipboard he'd put away later to use his hands to hold tools, and greeted them with a rather informal wave.

"Hello Commander! And hello, Subcommander, as well! I presume you've come to ask about the progress of our analysis?"

"Indeed." Fuyutsuki confirmed.

"So? Have you been able to find any remains of the power source?"

"I'm afraid not, Sir."

"And what about the rest?"

"The rest is rather homogenous and hardly shows any discernible structures or organs… and as you see, it's decaying quite fast. I don't think that it will be of much use for us…"

"That's not a problem. Have the rest disposed of." The Commander ordered.

"Is there anything that you'd like to inspect personally before that?"

Apparently, there was. Shinji had been following the conversation intently, even if it's topic had little to do with him, or, for that matter, anything he had a basic understanding of. His father's involvement alone was enough to keep Shinji's eyes transfixed.

He had never really gotten to know that strict, cold man and hardly knew anything about him. Even now that he was living in Tokyo-3 and working at NERV, he still had little involvement with the elder Ikari, and hardly ever spoke to him at all, especially not about personal matters.

Somehow he wanted to know just what exactly it was about this work of his that had been so much more interesting to him than Shinji himself has ever been.

That even the hope of finally getting to understand his father was beginning to mingle with his cocktail of emotions was something that he initially tried to suppress, lest he end up setting himself up for disappointment with empty hopes.

Shinji was about to follow on that thought and avert his gaze when a small, trivial gesture confronted him with a completely new piece of information without any sort of prior warning:

Apparently rather interested in personally inspecting the angel's tissue, Ikari Gendo parted with the white gloves that usually accompanied him everywhere he went, and let his bare hands wander over the sample's fading surface, shaking loose a few luminous, flake-like particles as he stared into it at a particular angle, as if he were expecting profound revelations from it.

He paused to issue a few orders that may or may not be based on any conclusions he might have drawn before putting his gloves back on and leaving it to Fuyutsuki to actually skim through the fine-print of the actual reports on the researcher's clipboard.

The white accessories had only left their place for a few minutes at most, but it was enough. Shinji could not possibly have missed _why_ his father hardly separated from his gloves – His entire palms, extending to the lowest phalanges of his fingers were covered in disfiguring, leathery burn scars.

Shinji was at a loss.

He didn't have the slightest clue where his father could have gotten these burns.

He couldn't even say _when _these injuries could have been acquired. His memories of the time before his father had given him away were nebulous at best and simply insufficient to tell if he'd already had the scars back then, or whether he'd gotten them in that eternally long time in which "infrequent" would have been a rather euphemistic word to describe the amount of contact they had – or those last, long three years of complete silence between them, during most of which Shinji had not actually expected to ever see his father again – He might as well have crashed his car into a tree and died without Shinji ever learning of it, never mind getting this scarring.

Then again, he might very well have gotten them after Shinji's arrival, it's not like he would have been told – If he was honest, the only way in which the distance between them had decreased since his move to Tokyo-3 was in the form that could be measured in kilometers – seen from any other angle, they were just every bit as far apart as they had been for the last ten years.

"What's the matter?" Misato asked, brusquely jolting her ward out of his musings.

Shinji felt rather red-handed in a self-conscious way, having been swayed by the illusion that she was too busy with Dr. Akagi to notice the wanderings of his gaze – he must have been eying the distance all too long, and far too intently.

"I-it's nothing…" Shinji lied.

He didn't want to talk about it right now.

But it was exactly this very resignation that never ceased to fuel his guardian's ire, and the only response she had for the averting of his eyes was the drawing of her index finger. "Listen up kid, there's nothing more conspicuous than someone trying too hard to be _in_conspicuous! If you say 'it's nothing' with this kind of face, you leave me no choice _but_ to ask more questions! So what IS the matter, anyway?"

Since it was obvious that Misato was not going to let him off the hook without getting a proper answer, and he actually _wanted_ one, he finally caved in and spilled the truth: "I was just… I only just noticed… that my father's got those horrible burns on his palms…"

"Burns?" For once, Misato appeared somewhat relieved that he'd been chewing on a relatively 'harmless' question, on the other hand, it was quite obviously the first time she ever heard of those scars.

"…and I was wondering… just what happened to him…"

"I have no clue." Misato admitted, aiming a quizzical look at her friend.

"Do _you_ know anything about that?"

"It happened two months ago, before you arrived here." Dr. Akagi explained.

"At the time of the activation experiment during which EVA 00 went out of control… You have heard of it, haven't you?"

Although he didn't have the slightest idea, Shinji nodded, simply wanting to hear the rest of the story without further delays, deeply upset by the thought that having these things that he and Rei were being stuffed into going out of control _didn't _seem to be all that uncommon an occurrence.

"It was horrible…" the scientist continued. "The pilot was trapped inside her entry plug."

"Ayanami Rei, right?" Shinji asked, requesting denial or confirmation. "The pilot at the time… must have been her, right?"

It had to be. Now, it was all starting to make sense.

Of course – as far as he knew, there hadn't been any other pilots before his arrival, right? So it could only have been her. That must be where her injuries came from! What any of this had to do with his father, though, didn't really occur to him, but Dr. Akagi was quick to enlighten him about the connection: "Yes. And Commander Ikari was the one who saved her life. He opened the overheated escape hatch with his bare hands…"

* * *

><p>The Commander had already had an air of tension about him when he first ordered the beginning of the experiment, all the while pushing his glasses back up – not the reflective, tinted specimen that Shinji had seen him with ever since his arrival, but one with thick, clear lenses and a cheap and used looking plastic frame that almost seemed too big for his face.<p>

Everywhere around him, the wild sound of typing into plastic keyboards resounded, as did the voices of the technicians as they were reporting to him how unit zero was slowly being activated, little by little.

The orange behemoth raised its cyclopean head, one by one, the lights on its head and arms lit up with color and brightness, as if the beast were going through the first stirrings of rising from a far too long sleep.

Standing between Fuyutsuki and Dr. Akagi, Ikari was observing the process, his expression dead serious.

So far, everything seemed to be to be going well… but not any further.

Shortly before reaching the absolute borderline, there was an error in the activation process – the error messages swarmed the screens faster than the technicians could report them – Most average citizens would probably have been unable to make any sense of words like "impulse feedback" or "uncontrolled increase of plug depth", but at very least when the orange titan began to move and strain against the contraptions that held it shackled to the wall, it was very obvious that something had gone terribly wrong.

Evangelion Unit 00 broke free of its chains; The machinery that had been designed to hold it in place was ripped out of the walls along with its moving limbs with the utmost ease.

Expulsing an acherontic screech, the beast started advancing through the chamber – but it wasn't a straight, directed march that the manmade titan was performing; It staggered, squirmed and grabbed its head that was so disproportionally small when compared to its body's overall proportion, bizarrely resembling a human being in the throes of a tortured dance of madness. But this did not mean that its haphazard movements were completely without a goal: It was very much aiming for the small window through which its creators were observing it, and it struggled desperately to keep its lone eye focused on it, over and over again, until it was able to send its fist flying straight into its target, shattering glass and bending the walls, leaving huge indentations with each of its strikes.

In spite of the shards of glass flying all around him, the ever persistent blows of the giant's fist, and the increasingly pleading warnings of the blonde scientist, Ikari Gendo remained right where he was, showing an outright unsettling lack of reaction.

But there was something else that very much _did_ make him react – The one thing about this Evangelion that still functioned as it was supposed to: The entry plug's auto-eject mechanism.

Unfortunately, it was never intended for indoor use.

"Damnit!" Ikari exclaimed, apparently honestly schocked – and not without reason. The very function that, in a normal battle, would have catapulted the pilot far away from the battlefield and thus from potential sources of danger, was now doing little more than make sure that the plug would be colliding with the roof of the experimentation chamber at its full speed, and the rockets that should have buffered its fall exhausted themselves as the plug scraped all the way across the roof of the experimentation chamber, screeching and emitting a fireworks of sparks, until it reached an unquiet stop in a corner, where it could no longer advance, letting it fall dead to the floor without anything left to cushion its fall.

"REI!" Ikari called, completely aghast, having lost all control over his usually tightly governed features.

It was hardly a surprise – the control rooms looked similar enough, almost the same situation, almost the same face…

But there was no helping it – The plug impacted the floor with a jarring screech of metal, actually _bounced, _and only came to a permanent rest un the occasion of its second meeting with the floor.

Unit Zero had, in the meantime, resorted to bashing its head against the wall panels, again and again, until it finally stopped only because its power cable had been removed and its legs had been sprayed with bakelite that was now hardening into a solid block.

Most of the people in the control room breathed out long held-in sighs of relief once it was apparent that the EVA had gone completely silent, but Ikari wasn't among them – As far as he was concerned, that only meant the removal of one obstacle that was keeping him from dealing with the true object of his worries.

Now that his path was cleared, he instantly set into motion, as if something inside him had clicked into place after having been severed for a long time… as if he was back on that fateful day, still able to keep its disastrous events from unfolding.

_"Not again." _He felt it ring through his skull that felt emptied of everything else.

_"At least not Rei."_

At first, he sped over to the broken windows, leaning forward while holding on to the frames – The test chamber went down for at least sixty meters, he could forget about jumping.

As much as he wanted to indulge in the deceptive reassurance of a straight line, life had taught him very well how useful curves and meanders could often be to accomplish one's goal.

So he turned around without addressing a single word at anyone present, and rushed out of the room, leaving both Fuyutsuki and Akagi behind like some toys he'd lost interest in.

The latter could not help feeling a little wounded as she peeked at the entry plug below the arch of the giant's body, knowing all too well what was driving him right now.

She could hardly believe that he'd actually considered jumping all the way down, ans she could tell that he wouldn't have minded twisting an ankle in the process if it had been a survivable height – it was downright frightening, to see the usually stoic and in-control commander seized by the kind of impulse that made the whole body ebb and flow like the stormy sea, and it kept away any thoughts of following and approaching him.

As for Ikari himself, he had since pressed the next elevator-button, but ended up storming down the nearby stairs anyway as it took too long to arrive.

He kept speeding along his way, without any real awareness of his surroundings – he ended up using a maintenance entrance that he hasn't set foot in in his life, pretty inferring the quickest route and reading the signs on the way on autopilot.

He only learned that he'd broken down a door along the way when Fuyutsuki mentioned it a few days later.

His mind wasn't even saving information about it, or about that time he'd let go of his security card as he was trying to pull it through the matching slot next to the final armored door leading to the test chamber, so that he had to frantically gather it up from the floor, that's just how upset he was, that's how foolishly he'd surrendered himself to the illusion that this would somehow allow him to make something up to the wife and son he had failed so long ago.

When the door finale opened, he immediately started running, frenzied, almost tripping over his own feet, until he reached the entry plug, and immediately went for the emergency escape hatch – which was just about hot enough to very much _cook_ the upper layers of his skin before the very instant he'd touched them had turned from present into past.

With a sharp grunt of pain, Ikari instinctively recoiled, inadvertently sending his glasses flying to the floor in the process.

But that little bit of heat was by far not enough to make him hesitate – Without ever stopping to move, he forced his tortured fingers back to the burning hot metal through sheer force of will, and, through great pains and even greater exertion, turned the opening mechanism until the hatch was finally unlocked and the LLC streamed out onto the floor of the experimentation chamber.

Without allowing himself even a moment of respite, he forced the hatch open and leaned forward into the narrow, cylindrical plug.

_"Rei? Are you alright? REI!"_

The girl was still in her seat, weak, trembling, frightened, and judging by the rivulets of blood running down her face, injured as well, barely managing to turn in his direction and nod.

Ikari smiled.

"…thank goodness…"

It was only now that he took the time for a deep breath – As much as the heated air within the plug reeked of LCL, to him, it might as well have been a gentle sea breeze.

She was alive.

After a second's rest, the leader of NERV lifted his… subordinate? Wife? Tool? Memento? Creation? Prisoner? _Daughter? _out of the entry plug, with a care and gentleness that no one would expect of such a strict and pragmatic man.

He stood there for a moment, holding her, before turning around to carry her out of the experimentation chamber, slowly, steadily, giving his breathing and his heartbeat the time to revert to a normal pace.

He was almost back in the control room, he met up with the emergency team that Akagi must have called at some earlier moment, handing them the girl and ending up being whisked away along with her on Akagi's insistence when both she and the paramedics noticed the state of his hands, which he had almost forgotten as the adrenaline hat yet to wear of.

It was only when the pain finally began setting in that he became aware of the absence of his glasses and the fact that he must have left them in the experimentation chamber – not that they would have been of much use to him.

The cheap plastic of their frame had melted slightly out of shape due to the heat from the LCL, and the lenses had cracked under the resulting tension.

* * *

><p>"<em>My father<em> did that?!" Shinji asked in disbelief.

Never in a hundred years would he have thought it possible that his father even had the _capacity_ to get himself injured for the sake of a mere underling. He had a hard time reconciling the man in this account with the huge, dark silhouette that had left him helplessly crying on that train station ten years ago.

It just refused to match…

"Yes. That's where he got his burns." Dr. Akagi confirmed once more, contradicting all the logic of Shinji's inner world.

He spent the rest of that conversation listening in silence as he struggled to process what he had just been told.

"It's hard to believe that all of this really happened…" Misato commented, looking everything but content. That the weapon that carried all of her hopes, _her plans for revenge, her wish for release _had turned out to be something this unreliable tempted her uncomfortable thoughts.

"Of course, all record were deleted and the official report says something else, but that's what happened." Dr. Akagi concluded, distinctly more nonchalantly than Misato would have liked her to.

"Did you ever find out _why_ the EVA went out of control?" She inquired, hoping for something that could soothe her worries.

"Nothing certain, but we suspect that there was a mental instability in the pilot, and that this was the primary trigger."

"A mental instability? In _Rei_?"

"Yes. She may have been a lot more stressed than we expected."

"…but for what reason?"

"I don't know, but… possibly…"

Possibly, something in some corner of this perverse, unnatural abomination retained some memory of the person who had once ended its life, and decided to take a shot at crushing her daughter…

Oh no. Now she was starting to think like _her_.

Dr. Akagi could have slapped herself for even thinking of something like that.

"Possibly what?"

"Forget it. That cannot be."

"Either way, if no one really knows what exactly went wrong with the experiment, then why is EVA 00 being reactivated? Isn't that a bit imprudent?"

"The angels have returned, and unfortunately, the Evangelions are our only effective weapons."

"I know that, but…"

"I's not like was our first experiment with Rei and Unit Zero. We've already had countless of successful synchronizations. As soon as the neuronal interface is completely repaired…"

"She'll be sent into battle as well. I know…"

Even if there were good chances of the next activation experiment being a success, she just couldn't be happy about the fact that pretty soon, another mere teenager would be forced into being a soldier for the fate of the human race – with an evidentially unreliable weapon, at that.

"If everything goes well, we might already be able to deploy her against the next angel. She will be under your command, just like Shinji-kun. Here are her files."

Misato grabbed the folder and left.

* * *

><p>Rei Ayanami.<p>

Fourteen years old.

The first qualified candidate the Marduk institute was able to find.

The First Child, exclusive pilot of EVA 00, but also designated as backup pilot for EVA 01.

Unusually constant synchronization rate that was well within the borders of what could be used efficiently, but not particularly high compared to that of the Third or Second Children.

That was all.

No blood type, no family, no psychological profiles, no backstory, no information on the circumstances of her recruitment, not even a goddamn date of birth!

Compared to the thick bundles of paper that Misato had been given about Shinji and the Second Child, the file that Ritsuko had just handed her was decidedly thin. Until now, all she had seen of Rei was synchronization data she'd been sent for the sake of comparison with the other two children, and she had been curious about the contents of her personnel files for quite some time… at first, she had been honestly surprised that they would suddenly be allowed access to the papers just like that, but now that she had seen them, she could see _why_ they had let her see them – they simply didn't contain any significant new information whatsoever.

That is, except for one crucial detail that only deepened the mystery: Her birth parents weren't even given names, but listed as her current legal guardian was no one other than Commander Ikari himself.

Misato felt an unfathomable something taking shape in the back of her head… First, the Commander's own son gets recruited to pilot Unit One, and now, it turns out that his foster daughter has already been in the program for _years_…

Wasn't that somehow… nepotism? And either way…

Spontaneous heroism notwithstanding, she found it rather unlikely that someone who'd deserted his own flesh and blood would take in a little girl out of pristine altruism alone.

But Misato had nothing tangible, no concrete evidence to prove that all of this wasn't just a huge, spontaneous agglomeration of coincidences with relatively simple explanations.

According to these papers, Rei had been accommodated on her own, just like they had initially planned to do with Shinji – They weren't exactly living together, so perhaps she was only listed under the Commander's guardianship for the sake of formalities… never mind that this organization was her only way of reclaiming her peace…

"Hey, Shinji-kun." She asked the pensive boy with a feigned tone of mild, casual interest.

She didn't really expect him to know anything, but it was worth a try.

"Have you, by any chance, ever met Rei or anyone in her family before you arrived here? Are the Ayanamis perhaps… distant relatives of yours, or friends of the family…"

"Why are you asking me that?" he replied, still seeming somewhat absent from the here and now – Misato could imagine all too well that the story about his father must have been occupying most of his capacity for thought – and her suspicious were not too far off the mark.

Of course he was pondering that account of his father's unprecedented heroism, the like of which his own son had not once witnessed before, but there was also the one name that was, once again, at the center of everything, and still left him no rest – Ayanami Rei.

She was the girl whom his father had saved. A stranger. A _complete stranger_ had been significant enough to him to get the skin burned off his hands, but Shinji, his own son, wasn't worth a speck of his attention…

And despite knowing all of this, Misato honestly thought _he_ would be the one to ask if she wanted to hear anything about Rei and his father's connections?!

To her credit, she quickly picked up on her young ward's disgruntlement.

"…I was asking just in case… It's not any sort of problem if you don't know anything…"

"…so you were already expecting me to be completely clueless… Sure… How could it be any different? It's not like my father and I have anything to do with each other…"

"That's not ... what I meant…"

"It's alright…" he said, in a tone that made it quite obvious that he was everything _but_.

Misato fought back the urge to let out a deep sigh, if only to desist from troubling him any further.

And to think that he had appeared fairly content this morning…

But, as having to deal with this boy had forced for acknowledge by now, it just wasn't all that simple, and the fact that he'd spent the last few days in a relatively good mood was no reason to declare victory on all of his problems.

Even if he'd appeared more stable since he went back to school, it didn't take all too much to throw him off his wafer-thin semblance of balance; Overall, he still remained a very fragile boy.

After all, he had come here for the purpose of getting closer to his father – and now, he had been brutally reminded of just how little progress he had made in that direction thus far.

"I don't know… of any friends of the family." was his quiet reply.

His voice just sounded depressed, but his anger found another way out as fingers had clawed themselves into the fabric of his pants. He didn't say it out loud, but Misato might as well have looked into his skull and read the unsaid words that were still burning to be heard.

He didn't know of any friends of the family, nor that his father and him had ever been anything resembling a family in the first place.

That was what he still wanted to say.

* * *

><p>After a long drive most of which Shinji spent staring at the roof of the automobile, while Misato silently whacker her brains over both Shinji's frame of mind and the papers she had been handed, the two of them finally arrived at NERV HQ where Shinji was, as mentioned before, being expected for a test – And in the time he needed to change into his plug suit, walk to the cage, and be inserted into his Evangelion, Dr. Akagi, the last missing participant, had also arrived just in time to get started, still having had some data left to sort through at the grounds of the last battle.<p>

With everything ready, they wasted no time to activate the EVA and connect it to Shinji who, once again, kept his turbid thoughts to himself and meekly followed along with everything that was asked of him – the moment the interface inside the plug activated was also the first time Shinji got a good look at Unit Zero which was fixated in the same room. Both EVAs were about half submerged in coolant; Rei had apparently arrived before him, so he hadn't gotten to see her before the experiment started, as she had already been sitting inside her plug at the time he had been climbing into his own. Much like his own EVA, the one-eyed bio-machine bore an undeniable resemblance to the mythological demons of old, as much as the layout of the armor plates and the structure of the head were distinctly different from those of the violet giant that he still couldn't comfortably think of as "his", especially since both EVAs appeared to have at least one thing in common: Their history of going out of control. Until now, he'd at least felt somewhat safe during these tests, but now he knew that these things were even liable to go berserk during a _routine experiment_…

At this point, he decided to lean back and try thinking of something else – nervous, chaotic thoughts were hardly going to help his synch ratio.

So he closed his eyes and made an effort to breathe slowly and deliberately, as Dr. Akagi had advised him during his training, but it didn't seem to be working.

Relaxing was just not something that Ikari Shinji had any talent for.

It just wasn't possible for him, not when he felt it all around him, not air, but a warm liquid with a slight tint of an unnerving scent to it, it just didn't allow him for forget a moment where exactly he was, not in a test plug, not in a simulation body, but the real deal, the actual, physical Evangelion…

Right now, everything about the connection to the EVA felt like it usually did, but how would he know if it wasn't just the same for Ayanami until the very moment Unit Zero went out of control? Yes, exactly. Ayanami was here, too, not too far away, deep within her own EVA. She had sustained all these horrible injuries in the last incident… For now, they appeared to have completely healed, but soon, she was going to be sent into battle… and that was a thought that Shinji didn't like at all… he could still see her before him, being wheeled past him on a gurney, weak, broken, struggling for breath…

Just the thought that this fragile, unfortunate girl would be sent into the kinds of battles he'd had to endure so far, and suffer just as he had… Barely touching that particular rotten cluster of memory was enough to send shivers down his neck… and if he combined that with imagining Rei, trembling, bleeding and whimpering in pain, as she had been during their first meeting, and him, too, both their bodies broken on the ground… he just didn't want this, he flat out refused to imagine this any further.

Just like back then, he felt compelled to take her into his arms and protect her from all that, but for that, he would have needed strength. He would have needed to be a good fighter… and he didn't know how that would be possible for him. As useless as he was now, it was very much unavoidable that she would end up being deployed, and thus, inevitably injured once again.

His measly amount of "strength" and "courage" wasn't even enough to even _talk_ to her.

Much like his father, Ayanami Rei would probably always remain a faraway existence for him…

Ayanami… Rei…

Her name was also what finally brought Shinji's thoughts back to the here and now. No, not her name, her designation. The First Child.

She was mentioned in one of the many announcements that were often heard over the numerous speakers in NERV headquarters. They were currently… transferring the First Child's test data to the Magi? What, it was already over?

Well, not quite, it was only over for Rei, which made sense she had been present here a little earlier, but still, he must have dozed off quite a while ago.

How on earth he had managed that in his tense and anxious state was a mystery to him, but it might be related to the fact the it was so… warm and cozy inside the Evangelion, as grotesque as it seemed to describe this horrifying abomination of modern science with that kind of adjectives. But that wasn't all. After his unscheduled little nap, he felt strangely at ease, not just disproportionally well-rested for the amount of time, but somehow… invigorated to the microscopic level, as if he'd been to some warm, comfortable place where someone soft and caring had consoled gently consoled him… but now that he was awake, the mere concept of having such associations for the stuff of his nightmares left him creeped out to the point of nausea, and the sticky, stinking quality of the LCL everywhere on him and inside him didn't help in the slightest, sending his brain into overdrive in search of some logical explanation for this other than the possibility that he was slowly going stark raving mad.

Perhaps he had dreamt of something that he could no longer remember clearly, something that explained this. Perhaps he had confused this place for something else in his half-conscious state. But now he couldn't help being wide awake, and noted, amongst other things, that Rei had already been let out of her EVA – at very least, her entry plug had already been withdrawn from Unit Zero…

In a spur of spontaneous curiosity, he made the interface zoom in without thinking too much about what he was doing.

And there she was.

He found her on that catwalk-like contraption in-front of her EVA.

She had bent down to get something from a small compartment that served as a deposit for the pilot's belongings, then went back to her plug and squatted down to get something else.

By implication, she was wearing her plugsuit.

While it certainly wasn't the first time that he'd seen it on her, but it was not quite the same sort of impression when she wore it covered in bandages without the parts corresponding to the arms, and couldn't really move around in it like she could now. That said, the full suit with its stark white color was not much less effective than the bandages in making her appear like an unspeakably fragile porcelain doll.

With this clothing pressed this tightly to the surface of her skin, she looked as if the slightest touch, or even sound could make her pop out of existence like a soap-bubble.

Lost in fascination, his eyes unwaveringly followed the every motion of her petite body.

Once again, his thoughts circled around the reasons for her seemingly constant solitude… until he noticed that, for once, she was not alone at all.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shinji noticed the approaching, daunting silhouette of a tall man in a dark uniform.

Wait, that was… that couldn't be, could it?

But it was.

_His Father!_

What in the world was his father doing there, right on this metal catwalk thing?

That's the place where you would expect some simple maintenance technician to show up, not, well, their big boss guy.

As soon as Ayanami noticed his presence, she eagerly turned around and excitedly skipped towards him with an almost playful elegance that Shinji had never noticed at school, just like a little girl rushing to welcome her beloved Daddy after a long day of work.

Yes, she actually _jumped_ to bridge a small height difference between the contraption right next to the plug and the main catwalk, and soon, she was standing right in front of him, generously accompanying the apparent steam of her words with gracile hand gestures.

Shinji was quickly taken by a wave of disbelief, but her actions simply eschewed any other description, it just contradicted everything he had seen of this girl so far.

That alone would have been enough to seriously confuse the young EVA pilot, but what happened next honestly shocked him to the bone – She smiled. She seemed downright elated, the expression of delight just wouldn't disappear from her lips as they kept forming new words with increasing enthusiasm.

And the craziest thing of it all was… his father actually _smiled back_.

There it was, before his very eyes, a most impossible thing: Ikari Gendo, looking another person firmly in the eye with a pleased, if not outright _proud _smile on his edgy, worn face.

Shinji felt as if the ground had just been pulled out from underneath him, flailing, tumbling down like a leaf in the wind, a footloose tatter on an inevitable downward spiral he had absolutely no say over.

In the sudden, vicious grip of this paralyzing helplessness, he could not stop to watch from afar through his interface how these two appeared to get along splendidly, cut off from their happy, harmonious world he was not allowed into.

He could not hear what they were saying, but their faces spoke whole encyclopedias.

They were smiling, not just a little, but, as far as it was within his abilities to tell, moved by genuine pleasance, displayed for everyone to see.

Ultimately, his father's eyes ended up taking up a gentle, almost devoted expression, which immediately resulted in Rei positively _beaming_ like a newborn star.

By then, it had become all but obvious.

They were not just smiling, they were smiling _together._

Rei… and his father.

Shinji couldn't think of a time where he'd seen _either _of them smiling before this very day…

Of course Commander Ikari Gendo wasn't the type of person who'd get himself burned for some random subordinate.

But Rei wasn't just a subordinate;

He was.

He, Shinji, was the stranger, the forgotten distant relative, the random subordinate.

_He_ was the one who didn't belong, the leftover spare, the "other" child.

He was the one who wasn't a friend of the family.

Shinji let himself sink back into his seat in resignation.

What point was there in any of this, again?

If he was honest with himself, hadn't he stayed here out of the naïve hope that maybe, just maybe, his father would finally acknowledge him and let him take his rightful place as his only son? Well, right now, that spot appeared to be quite taken, his father did not look like someone who would have any use or need or reason to miss another Child.

This just wasn't fair. That man was supposed to be _his_ father, damnit, and as small a comfort as he may have been, he was the only family that Shinji had left on this world.

HE was supposed to be his son, HE should be the one getting that appreciative smile…

How could he smile at HER when he had abandoned his own flesh and blood like some bag of trash?

It was not like could ever have been capable to resent or even hate Rei on the basis of something like jealous feelings – if his thought were to as much as stray in that direction, he would see her bandaged on the ground again, together with the associated memory of feeling that urge help her somehow, and a whole new icing of deep shame.

What sort of scum could even consider resenting a person capable of such bravery as attempting to fight a giant monster in such a pitiable state? It's not like any of this was her fault.

Still, Shinji couldn't help but feel like he had been slapped in the face.

If this girl over there was Ikari Gendo's precious child…

Then who was Shinji?

Then what was he doing on this world?

What was he doing here?

Soon after, he was told that the experiment was over and allowed to leave his entry plug.

When he stepped onto the catwalk right outside the plug, he was all alone, there was no one, no one waiting for him.

He hurried to get to wherever he had left his SDAT player, or at least to Misato.

He didn't really care either way, right now, he would be fine with anything that would make enough noise to chase away the thoughts of what he had just witnessed.

Although Misato did her best to coax some sort of conversation out of him on the ride back home, his contributions consisted entirely of one-liners, and once they arrived, he went straight for his room and remained cooped up in there for the remainder of the day. Even the resident house-penguin appeared somewhat concerned and attempted to cheer him up, but unfortunately, PenPen's effort remained equally fruitless.

In the end, both the bird and its owner decided to call it a day, concede their defeat, and hope that Shinji's friends would be able to cheer him up tomorrow. And if that didn't help, Misato would try teasing him a bit, he was bound to stop brooding eventually and get all flustered as he was forced into the defensive position.

After all, Ritsuko would be coming over tomorrow, and along with her, countless of potential ways to distract the boy.

Sighing, she opened the can of beer she had just gotten from her fridge.

She would have thought that after all this time, she would at least have developed something of a gut feeling for how to get through to that kid, but she was already suspecting that it probably just didn't work that way.

Either that, or it was simply proof that she wasn't his real mother after all.

* * *

><p>There were people on this world who could feel down when they hid away under their blankets, and see the world an entirely different way when they jumped out of bed the next day… but Shinji wasn't one of them.<p>

He'd marched off to school on time, but that was already the best she could say about – he'd served her breakfast, but barely even touched his own and held his sweet little head downcast the entire time in his usual way.

By now, Misato had wondered whether there had been any concrete incident that she didn't know about. He'd been somewhat melancholy since yesterday morning, but if she really thought about it, his mood had not quite hit freezing temperatures until after the synch test.

Even with someone like him, there had to be some sort of cause for this sort of shift – or had she just significant underestimated his lability? Never mind the pesky little problem that no one knew when the next angel might attack…

She hadn't made peace with the thought of sending him into battle like that…

Once again, the sought solace in a nice can of cold beer.

All of this would probably be significantly less frustrating if there were some sort of measuring instrument to gauge her success or lack thereof.

* * *

><p>In the meantime, Shinji was walking to school as he pondered once again was he was even doing here, what it was that he came to search for, and what point there was in staying here.<p>

His father and Ayanami.

Their smiling faces just wouldn't disappear from his mind, no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on the pavement before his feet.

His father had only needed him because Rei had been injured, right?

She had recovered by now – So what was he still doing here?

It was quite possible that his father would soon lose all interest in him and just send him away again without anything between them having changed- no, even if he were to stay here, the chances of anything changing were looking less existent by the day.

As he was going his way, Shinji noticed a familiar voice – no, 'familiar' would probably have been an overstatement, given that he'd only met it its owner yesterday, but he did recognized.

It was Mitsurugi, alongside an adult male with unusually long, dark hair who was leaning on a car that was parked by the roadside. Shinji recognized him as well – wasn't he that technician that his father had spoken with yesterday?

Shinji might not have recognized the man if he hadn't been wearing that same combination of a beige NERV uniform and a lab coat.

"Excuse me if I ask, but… Won't you be running late for work?" Mitsurugi asked, hesitantly. The man, who was appeared significantly more carefree, just shook his head. "Nope. Don't you worry, Nagato, there's an access route right next to your school, after all it's the same one the Children are enrolled in… You're in the same class, aren't you?"

"Yes… they are…" he confirmed, without much of a tone to his voice.

"And? What are they like? I don't mean to tattle, but I do feel somewhat obligated to show some interest in the people who are saving the gluteii maximi of everyone in this city on a regular basis, including yours and mine…" The long-haired technician chuckled softly.

"I… briefly spoke with Ikari-san the other day." Mitsurugi replied quietly.

"He appears to be a nice person, if somewhat sparse with words…"

"Sparse with words, heh? Sounds like his old man. You see, the Commander isn't exactly the most frisky person on the planet either… But then again, the higher-ups are _all_ quite gifted at the art of poker faces. You should see the leader of the operations division… not the mention the boss of mine, our dear Dr. Akagi… They're quite a collection of hardcore workaholics… But I guess that's how they got to be the head honchos to begin with… Seriously, it's like the only normal person is subcommander Fuyutsuki, but I don't really work with him that much…"

If only they knew. Misato's 'professionalism' was something that she discarded along with her uniform when she went home. Not that these two had any way of knowing that.

Only now did Shinji realize that he had stopped in his tracks when he'd realized that they had been talking about _him_.

He was still a sizeable distance away from them, though.

"My impression was that Ikari-san… I mean, the _younger_ Ikari-san, is just shy more than anything else…"

"Just shy?" The technician raised an eyebrow. "Well, in that case, the family resemblance does seem to be a bit more limited than I thought… But I guess the two of us should probably be quiet in that regard, we're not a prime example of family resemblance either. Either way, I expect you to be nice to our Third Child…" The older Mitsurugi playfully presented his index finger.

"He's the only son of the guy who decides my salary!"

"I… I will, father."

Mitsurugi's father laughed.

"Don't take everything so dead serious, Nagato…. And I'd really appreciate it if you finally came up with some more… pleasant way to refer to me. How about calling me 'Papa', 'Daddy' or anything like that? I could even live with that newfangled 'Old Man', but please, spare me that high and mighty 'father'.

…and let's get going already, or the both of us might _really_ wind up arriving too late…

Oh, and Nagato? Did you meet the First Child as well? You know, the girl?"

Shinji stayed where he was and didn't budge an inch until the Mitsurgis had vanished into the distance.

He didn't want to spend the rest of the way being reminded that he would probably never have this kind of conversation with his own father.

These two had been smiling to each other as well… just like Rei and his own male parent.

For a little while, he just stood there, deciding whether he even still felt like going to school, but he didn't feel like going back and facing Misato's disappointment, so he continued walking in the end.

When he eventually reached his classroom, he already found both Mitsurugi and – as usual – Ayanami alone at their desks. The former was spending the time before the first period like he had spent most of his breaks yesterday, mostly alone, solving sudokus when he wasn't reading through his schoolwork. Shinji had already noticed that he often participated in class and had a pretty solid grip on the subject matter, which was significantly more than the Third Child could claim for himself.

Shinji made no further attempts to talk to him today – he just couldn't summon up the energy to do it, and he was certain that he would only end up blowing it, since the bitter aftertaste of witnessing his conversation with his father left him feeling rather awkward if he as much as thought about his newest classmate.

Needless to say, he didn't talk to Rei either. Not today, not today of all days. Today, if that was possible, he felt even less up to it than he usually did.

He _did _watch her, though. Drawn in by some sort of higher power, like a moth that could never hope to understand the chemical reactions that gave birth to flames, he found his eyes circling around the back of her head, her face averted from all of the classroom and all that took place within it.

And he didn't feel like anything was going to change between him and her anymore that between him and his father. He would never find the courage to talk to her.

He never thought that there would ever be a day when he would be grateful for the history teacher's usual boring speech, but now, it had come.

The endless droning about Second Impact did at least create some sort of background noise to drown out those gloomy thoughts, he no longer wanted, and whatever hijinks Touji and Kensuke were plotting while the old teacher wasn't looking only added to the convenient distractions, but the two of them did not fail to notice that their newest friend was notably sparse in his participation: "Hey, Ikari! What's the matter with you today? You look like you'll summon one of these cartoon clouds at any minute…" Touji commented.

"I… do…?"

"Yep. Don't bother with denying it, it's quite obvious." Kensuke stated, deliberately wording it in a more casual tone, in the hope that perhaps it would rub off on Shinji. But he and Touji had personally witnessed quite enough to have reasons to be genuinely worried. Still, Kensuke chose to downplay that for now. "So… you're some uber cool elite combat pilot, you live with Misato-san and half the girls in our class have the hots for you. What could possibly bad enough for _you_ to show up here with such a long face."

"I don't think any of that is as great as you probably imagine…"

"What, including having the girls fawn over you?"

"Why would anyone be _fawning_ over me of all people? There's nothing interesting about me, apart from being an EVA pilot… at least you have some muscles… and Aida is smart and always seems to know lots of things…"

"An innocent lamb, white like snow…" Touji remarked. "You really _are_ clueless, Ikari."

"This judgmental society tends to see our hobbies as rather girl-repelling." Kensuke added as an explanation of sorts.

"_Our_ hobbies?"

"Oh, right. In your case, it's your big potty mouth."

"WHAT did you just say…? Never mind. Anyway, Ikari, just in case you haven't noticed, you _do_ seem to have some popularity with the ladies. Just not with _all_ ladies, right?" Touji eyed him with a wide grin.

"What… do you mean by that?"

Kensuke promptly elaborated on Touji's hypothesis: "You're experiencing a little bit of lovesickness, aren't you?"

"N-No, that's… not it…" Shinji answered, somewhat rattled.

It shouldn't surprise him that those two would blame his melancholy on such a "mundane" explanation, but…

"Oh yes it is! Did you really think that we didn't notice where you were staring whenever one of us stops speaking for as much as half a second? Looks like Ayanami's boobies really did a number on you, man."

"A-Ayanami? I- It's not like this! …really not…"

But Touji didn't even leave Shinji the time to come up with any excuses: "Nah. We might have bought that story yesterday, but you've had your head permanently pointing into her general direction ever since. You can be honest with us, you know? I admit, she's definitely not by type, but she's not _that_ bad. I mean, she _does_ have a nice butt. If you're lucky, it might turn out that she isn't weird or antisocial at all, just…uhm… really shy."

"_Really, really_ shy." Kensuke added, not really believing in that possibility. "But come hell or high water, as your friends, we totally respect your choice (and personal taste), and feel obliged to help you in any way we can."

"It _really_ isn't that way!" Shinji insisted, beginning to look somewhat helpless.

"Then what _IS_ the matter?" they both demanded to know in unison.

"I… I don't want to talk about it right now…"

At that, the two of them decided to let sleeping dogs lie – The odds of Shinji actually spilling the beans did not look particularly high anymore, anyway – and decided to shift the topic of conversation to "mathematics", since the teacher in question had this pesky habit of subjecting one or two unlucky student to an impromptu interrogation at the beginning of the period, apparently to motivate the students to do more studying.

Touji had not really quite grasped just what exactly the teacher had spent the last lesson babbling about, and Kensuke, who usually tended to be decidedly better with all this school work, was just as clueless since he'd been busy assembling a plastic facsimile of a war plane that day, leaving it to Shinji to try and explain the new topic to them, although his rather muddleheaded attempts to do so only seemed to deepen their confusion.

Thankfully the teacher ended up picking someone else that day – Ayanami and Mitsurugi, to be exact – rendering all the fuss moot. The one listed first here was also the first one to be called to the blackboard by the teacher. She just walked to the front without a sound, picked up a piece of chalk, turned her back to everyone else in this room, took a short look at the equation and then proceeded to solve it, without providing the teacher or the rest of the class with any sort of explanation for what she was doing.

After she was done with the equations, she scribbled a minimalistic diagram beneath them, on which she represented time with the y-coordinate instead of the usual x .

As a matter of course, Shinji was observing each of her movements.

The teacher notably needed a little time to inspect the numbers that now filled most of the blackboard and retrace everything she had done, but after that, he seemed surprised.

"Now look at this! You _can_ do this after all… How come you never raise your hand during the lessons if you're this good at it?"

The teacher did not really appear to have been expecting an answer, nor did he leave the blue-haired girl any time to formulate one. "Well, anyway. Good job, Ayanami-san. Please return to your seat. Mitsurugi-kun? You're next. Could you please solve the third problem on page 66?"

Unlike Ayanami, Mitsurugi _did_ provide ample explanations and made an effort to turn to look at his classmates once in a while, but it was noticeably something he had to consciously remind himself of. Standing in front of a crowd didn't come to him naturally, and for the most part, he still didn't show his spectators much aside from the back of his bandaged head.

He scribbled the equations unto the table without having to pause and think as much as once, and was able to answer any and all questions the teacher directed at him.

What this event also revealed, however, was that Mitsurugi had notably bad handwriting – Even the teacher needed a while to decipher the small writing which appeared to be squeezing itself into a corner of the blackboard, but in the end, he was very pleased with the results, and proceeded to dismiss Mitsurugi and start the lesson.

The rest of the school day passed in a blur and very soon, it was time for Shinji to head home – he at least wanted to dust the apartment off before Dr. Akagi arrived for her visit – Leaving it to Misato was futile.

At times, he felt like he was _her_ guardian, and not the other way around… At least he wouldn't be alone with her this afternoon, so she would have someone else to pour her exaggerated happy-go-lucky attitude.

It wasn't that he didn't like her, but right now, he just wasn't in the right mood to deal with her. It was certainly her good right to act as cheerful as she wanted inside her own four walls, but the last thing Shinji wanted to be confronted with when he was feeling drained and depressed was a drunk, scantily-clad woman trying to "cheer him up", all the while reminding him all the more that he had absolutely _nothing_ to cheer about, despite her good intentions. Those only made him feel guilty for thinking about her like that, that almost sounded like like he'd prefer her to be just as miserable as he was, or that was at least what he had feared it could be mistaken for.

Or perhaps, he was the one making that mistake, or a different one.

* * *

><p>"What IS this?" Dr. Akagi demanded to know.<p>

"Curry." Shinji answered as he distributed the untrustworthy-looking substance onto the plates of everyone present.

The fake blonde, for once without her lab coat or bright, ruby-red lipstick, had known her old friend long enough to mistrust her culinary skills, but the shapeless paste she had just been served deserved to be revered as its very own kind of evil.

There was nothing on this table that hadn't been wrapped in plastic shortly before.

"Are you still living off that instant garbage?" she asked in disbelief.

But Misato's perception appeared to have its unique filters and mechanisms that apparently allowed her to completely tune out her colleague's advice whenever she pleased.

"Guests aren't supposed to complain." was her only retort, and even that was half-serious at best; With that out of the way, she turned to Shinji who was already leaning toward her general direction with the curry bowl and the ladle in his hands.

"…Misato-san?"

"Just put it in here." Misato instructed, removing the plastic plate she'd used as an improvised covering for a bowl on instant noodles that she'd already treated to a dose of hot water minutes before, before taking the entire bowl and proceeding to present it to Shinji with both her hands.

Although there was still some steam rising out of the cup, the brick-like shape initially formed by the noodles had already dissolved, so they looked just about ready to be eaten.

Obviously confused, Shinji blinked at his guardian. She wanted him to put the curry… into the noodle cup? If she said so, it should be okay enough for her, but he was not quite sure whether she was actually serious.

"A-Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am! Why shouldn't I be? This tastes great!" she claimed with a big smile on her face.

Shinji decided to humor her and give her what she wanted, saving any attempts of making sense of it for some point in the indeterminate future.

"You see, you can't have that kind of flavor with a cup-a-noodle alone." Misato commented, perhaps in an attempt to justify herself to her commensals without having to remove her aggressively-enthusiastic smile.

"My secret tip is to only use half as much water as it says on the packaging!"

After stirring the witches' cauldron of a noodle cup one last time, she contently began stuffing her 'creation' into her mouth.

Despite, or perhaps exactly _because_ of her apparently blissful facial expression, both Shinji and Dr. Akagi began to feel rather apprehensive about trying their own portions – and not without reason, as they soon learned.

"Misato cooked this, didn't she?"

"Oh, you noticed?" Misato answered with her mouth still full, either fully missing or deliberately ignoring the evident overtone of frustration in her friend's voice.

It took all of the scientist's self-control to maintain the smile she had put on for the sake of politeness and refraining from spitting it all out right then and there.

Distantly, she asked herself whether the currently known laws of physics even allowed for the possibility of _instant food_ getting this horribly screwed up.

"Next time you invite me, please do it when it's Shinji-kuns's turn to cook."

In the face of that sheer shower of 'praise' it was recieving, the third Member of the Katsuragi household pondered whether he should even touch the contents of his food bowl.

Just in the next room, the hot-springs penguin was eying the beer can and curry-topped rice he had been left with with a somewhat uncertain glance.

Did his Mistress really expect him to eat this?

Well, PenPen decided to be considerate and just give it a chance, not knowing that the first beakfull would already suffice to send him on a roadtrip to the land of dreams.

Sadly, this epic battle of Curry versus Bird remained unknown to future generations and forgotten by this cruel, ungrateful world. The only sign of it to ever reach the three humans in the living room was the soft 'thud' of an unsung hero's defeat, which only Shinji – a kindred spirit – ever took note of, and quickly dismissed as his imagination, concluding that his strained nerves must be playing tricks on him lately.

"Living with her must be hard. You might want to look into finding another place to stay…" Dr. Akagi advised, appearing to feel somewhat sorry for the young pilot.

"I've gotten used to it by now…" Shinji replied in a neutral tone, opting for a 'diplomatic' answer.

"Exactly!" Misato added, noticeably irked. "You should never underestimate a human's ability to adapt to new situations! Besides, if he did move-" She paused briefly for a small gesture that both Dr. Akagi and Shinji, its intended recipient, easily recognized as a request for another beer. "-he'd have to go through a lot of bothersome formalities, given that he only just got his new security card."

That particular cue distinctly got a specific reaction out of Dr. Akagi.

"Speaking of which…"

She reached into her handbag.

"I have a little favor to ask of you, Shinji-kun."

"Uhm… what do you need?" the boy in question asked as he handed Misato another can of her favorite alcoholic beverage.

"This is Rei's new security card." The scientists explained as she handed Shinji the small plastic rectangle. "I forgot to give it to her earlier. Could you stop by at her place on the way to headquarters and give it to her?"

That wasn't _exactly_ the truth, but since the excuse was so ordinary and inconspicuous, and the truth so unlikely, Misato was not likely to even consider the possibility of foul play.

Not even Akagi herself could fathom why the commander had asked her to find some arbitrary pretext to bring Shinji in contact with Rei.

He had mentioned it rather casually at the end of a longer conversation about current next courses of action, but unfortunately, she had long since been forced to learn that Ikari never did anything without a reason. If it was any other man, one could have suspected some explanation as harmless and innocent as that he was worried about the respectively rather modest and nonexistent social circles of his son and foster daughter and aimed to catch to birds with one stone, or that he simply thought they should meet since they would soon be working together, and that it would only be natural for them to form some relationship, given Rei's… identity.

But not if the one ordering this was Ikari Gendo, oh no. Dr. Akagi could only guess what he might have in mind, but it could be nothing less than to stir the wheels of fate.

"That's a very pretty picture of Rei, isn't it?" In the end, the apartment's owner and her ear-to-ear Cheshire cat grin were the ones to interrupt the thoughts of both Shinji and Dr. Akagi.

In the matter of a split second, the boy who, up until now, had been studying the card, or more accurate, the picture of Rei embedded into it in silence and melancholy, was blushing furiously and more than a bit frantic, mostly about denying the… theory that had just been cooked up one time too many. First Touji and Kensuke, and now Misato, too!

"It's not… like that…"

But now that she had gotten something other than dreary resignation or purely habitual pleasantries out of him, Misato sure wasn't going to let up: "My, my, Shin-chan. Could we be having a little bit of a crush?"

"N-NO!"

Misato giggled. "Then why did you get so flustered? Hey, at least now you have an official excuse to visit her apartment!"

"Please stop teasing me."

"Oh, but I love teasing you." Misato responded. Shinji's complaints had only served to heighten her mood, if anything – if he was actually complaining, and not just retreating into apathy, that little raincloud over his head was probably already dissipating.

"…you're really fun to tease-" She added, still fighting the last giggles. "-since you always explode right away."

"Like you?" Akagi countered.

Digging herself , Misato looked anything but amused at that comment, but before she could snap back at her more level-headed friend, Shinji drew the attention of both women to himself when he, still looking at Rei's picture on the card, finally revealed the reason why he had been doing so in first place: "It's just that I've come to notice that… we barely know anything about each other, even if we are the only two EVA pilots in the world…"

_That_ was what he had spent all this time brooding about?

Misato instantly asked herself why he hadn't just asked, but she could pretty much answer herself.

Shinji's question, however, was answered by Dr. Akagi, as she hid her true feelings behind her smile and a hand attached to the fingers she ran through her hair as if to disguise its true feelings: "…She's a nice girl. But unfortunately, she's just like your father… she's just not good at it."

"Not good… at what?"

"Living."

* * *

><p><em>Not good… at living?<em>

Shinji couldn't quite make sense of just what she meant. There were some unspeakable impossibilities that were brought to his consciousness by that phrase, but nothing concrete would make itself assemble. The supposed similarity to his father, counterintuitive as it may have been at first, was far easier to see once he put his mind to it. While he had never quite been able to put a label on the ghostly, disconnected presence in both his mind and NERV HQ, his father was certainly –shamefully – unfortunately – inevitably –to be found in the corners and cellars that negative presences were supposed to swarm and be found it, so it took a while for the thoughts of both of them to come together as something in the same sphere, in the end it was surprisingly, _disconcertingly _easy to integrate this new and unknown soul from the freshest memories of present that had yet to become past into the blurry, vague, lightless constructions of his childhood, like she always had her secret hideout here whom which she snuck out to show her form where the higher, upper, newer layers of his being were formed enough to properly perceive her; Or maybe, absurd and natural as it sounded at the same time, there was some hidden high speed lane between right now and back then, the diffuse beginning and the tip of his memory where it decayed into countless expectations and possibilities for the future, like a tunnel moving through the center of the earth, straight across that innermost darkness he never dared to touch

But be it through slow path or shortcut, it was possible to imagine those two next to each other; After all, they often were physically seen in each other's company.

He supposed that they were both taciturn, serious people who kept their mysteries to themselves; Their expressions changed about just as often, with Rei probably just barely trumping her guardian, but no other fourteen year old , or even any other female that Shinji could think of right off the bat.

Still, none of that seemed anywhere extreme enough to merit that last sentence, especially not in the light of them being involved in a war (He was now involved in a war, too. It hit him bluntly, there. That was not a conclusion he had wanted to draw, nor a thought he wanted to think-) …"Not good at living." …that sounded rather…drastic, didn't it?

Once again, now in the twilight of the hallway of Misato's apartment building, just outside their door, he made a futile attempt to suck out all the answers to the world from that small picture of a single girl. She was staring directly into the camera, with a firm, mechanically serious expression reminiscent of a soldier, unrelenting ready for and determined to face just about everything one could ask of her, and there was something about its stony hardness that indeed reminded him of his father.

He had smiled at her, back when they talked.

Shinji could not recall a single memory of his father smiling at _him_.

What sort of person was she? What did her crimson eyes so firmly believe in as to be willing to challenge an abomination that had him terrified out of his mind, in a half-dead state, at that?

From where did she take that immense, bottomless strength that he was not merely beyond his own capacity, but far outside the edges of his comprehension?

Who in the world was this girl who had been worthy of the Commander's smile?

* * *

><p>(1) This particular version of Shinji's "Third-Impact-Dream" was inspired by "Last B", an alternative draft for the final scene of EoE. I think I speak for all of us when I say that I'm very grateful that Anno chose to use the other one.<p>

(2) If I had the funds etc. to assign him a VA, it would probably be Yuka Nishigaki, also known for doing Yuu in "Guilty Crown". That last line where he goes "I'd like to see… how you resist despair…", that's it. Of course, this just describes the quality/sound of the voice, not it's tone/use, Nagato doesn't actually talk like that, not being the eldritch representation of some evil organization or anything XD His father Minoru would probably have a Crispin-Freeman-Type of voice XD On the subject, Asahina can be imagined as an Atsuko Tanaka type of voice, except perhaps a tad more subdued and less overtly awesome… dunno.

(3) Yes, look it up if you don't believe me, Shamshel's 'Laser arms' remained intact in 1.11. What a great opportunity to include the 'analysis scene', which, after all, is all but trivial.

(4) In the next chapter, Shinji is going to have his very own encounter with the mystery girl we've heard so much about. Of course, with him being the resident cosmic chew toy, that can only mean one thing: There will be slaps and hilarious incidents involving lack of clothes… but not necessarily in the most usual combination. Stay tuned for chapter 12: [A friend of the family]


	13. 12: A friend of the family

**12: [A friend of the Family]**

* * *

><p><em>Born in motion<em>

_Forward is your only course_

_Plunge the gaping edge_

_Fallen into flesh and bone_

_You could've been_

_Caught up in_

_All those empty odds_

_Alive but not awake_

_Promises_

_Am I seeping through?_

_Are you an angel_

_Whose ship ran aground?_

_Can't get a grip_

_On this planet you've found_

_Never to look down_

_Trade in your halo for feet on the ground_

_-Three, 'Alien Angel'_

* * *

><p>The neighborhood that Ayanami Rei lived in was… not what Shinji had expected.<p>

The closer he appeared to come to the address Misato had given him, the deeper he had sunken into a jungle of tall, abandoned concrete buildings.

He had never strayed here before, but he recalled the occasional people complaining about how these structures detracted from the general appearance of the city – If Shinji recalled his teacher's unending lectures correctly, the origin of these 'unsightly blemishes' dated back to Second Impact itself – after the calamity, there were hardly any two bricks left on each other – Everything that hadn't been moved down by the Earthquakes had been crushed beneath the tsunamis, billions of people died – and even most of the survivors were rendered homeless or forced to make do with ruins.

When reconstruction finally arrived after a dark age of countless wars and conflicts, it was decided to dispose of the debris that had once been Hakone like dust to be wiped away, for it to be reborn as Neo Tokyo-3, and as in many other cities, this rebirth had rolled over the land in the shape of a wave of steel and concrete – aesthetic concerns had been of little interests to the then still new and unstable government, at least as long as the streets were still a stew of dirty dissatisfied homeless beggars just waiting to erupt into riots.

The most pressing aim had been to provide the bulk of the survivors with stable roofs and working sanitation at the lowest possible cost.

The appearances of the city districts that still dated back to that chaotic time were merely a reflection of these circumstances: Wide streets framed by seemingly endless rows of identical, rectangular concrete buildings in uniform anthracite grey, disappearing into the horizon like a long row of domino bricks.

The row that Rei was supposed to live in was no different.

Other than the street signs and house numbers, Shinji could hardly make out any differences between the buildings, let alone the individual tiny apartments that made them up, but with the tall, homogenous buildings towering around him, he couldn't shake off these encroaching feelings of insignificance, nor the question of why anyone could possibly chose to live her by their own, free will, especially not _here_, at the very edge of not just the city, but even this forlorn district itself, in the outermost row of buildings that still remained – By the looks of it, there had been further building rows at a time, but by now, all that testified for their existence were piles of rubble; Now that Tokyo-3 had grown into a blossoming, well-fortified metropolis, those colorless makeshift building bricks had served their purpose and were being demolished at the least sluggish place that the city's perpetually strained finances allowed. In fact, Shinji could hear that very same demolition work produce typical construction noises somewhere in the distance in this very same instant.

Since Misato's apartment was pretty far up, it was usually silent whenever Misato herself wasn't there, but nothing of the sort could be said for this place – The sounds weren't particularly loud, since its source was still a fair bit away, but they were very much incessant and omnipresent.

In all the time Shinji needed to locate the correct building, the grating rhythm didn't seem let up for an instant.

Rei's home itself did not look any better than the rest of the district surrounding it, the frontage was bleak and featureless wherever it wasn't dirty, and many of the doors were just standing open; Shinji could even spot one that had completely fallen out of its frame; The immense majority of any residents this place had ever had seemed too have moved away a long time ago, and anyone who couldn't afford to leave wouldn't have the means to concern themselves with the maintenance of the building, which left the occasional piece of garbage as the only proof that anyone was still living here _at all_.

The disappearance of the residents was hardly a mystery, considering that, for its many stories, this building didn't have a single elevator. The bleak, colorless staircase only had a few small windows without even actual glass panes in them, and Shinji even noticed one or two broken driprails.

The further he got, the more he wondered what Rei was even doing in such a dreary place. There was simply no solid reason for her to be living here. She was important NERV personnel, a pilot, to be exact, and she seemed to get along with his father – If they were going to offer _him_ a proper apartment all for himself at the drop of a hat, it should go without saying that all Rei would need to do to get proper accommodation was to ask for them… so why was she of all people among the last few to be living in this desolate hole?

Didn't anyone care?

Why didn't she just… complain about this or something?

All this place did was to progressively batten Shinji's uncertainties before he had even set foot in the actual apartment.

As if he wasn't nervous enough – after all, he would be entering the personal living space of the living riddle that had occupied his thoughts ever since his arrival.

The apartment that lay beyond this threshold he had now reached belonged to his father's confidante, not to mention… to a girl.

Yes, he was just about to make his first ever visit to a girl's place, and that alone was enough to tighten his nerves to the fullest.

Alright, he had moved in with Misato before this, but that was something else entirely.

The Katsuragi-residence has since become _his_ personal space as well, but what lay behind this doors was Rei's alone.

There was always something special and intimate about a person's private rooms, in many ways, they could be reliable mirrors of someone's lifestyle and personality.

Of course, the threshold itself hardly seemed to live up to such romanticized language: Before him was a simple plastic door that had probably been white in its best days, stuck into a wall of featureless concrete bricks.

The external walkway that led him here was covered in dirt, nobody seemed to mind the many discarded cans, empty plastic bottles, crumpled papers or even the occasional rotting banana peels.

Regardless, the small, greying plastic sign above the door confirmed without a doubt that this was indeed apartment number 402, and that someone called "Ayanami" was living here – This, in defiance of all sense of normalcy, appeared to be the correct place.

Since he had stopped trusting those senses soon after arriving in Tokyo-3, he decided to do the most obvious thing and make use of the horribly cheap looking doorbell-contraption – it, however, chose to honor its cheap looks and failed to produce a sound.

After a few attempts at pressing it, Shinji concluded that it was broken.

Dejected and no less insecure, the Third Child stared at the nondescript plastic door. For the better part of the next few minutes, he just remained standing in front of it without any clue on how to proceed, then, it occurred to him that there apartments probably weren't terribly large, so that she'd probably hear it if he just knocked on the door. But when his knuckles connected with the plastic, he made another disconcerting discovery: It wasn't even locked.

He was very well aware that you weren't actually supposed to just walk into some complete stranger's lodging, but the door was open and… this whole situation was just crazy.

He had been told… he was supposed- He had been ordered to deliver this card to her and take her along for the experiments, so he practically _had_ to go in there, right?

Nothing else was going to accomplish anything.

That was how Shinji ended up opening the door, at first rather tentatively, announcing his presence multiple times to compensate for any deficits in politeness. The worst possible outcome of this was his lone comrade in this terrible fight getting a wrong impression of him – He couldn't stand the thought of that.

"H-Hello… Excuse me please, is… is anyone home?" Hesitantly, he stepped over the threshold. "E-Excuse me, it's me, Ikari!"

Shinji grew more disconcerted by the instant – While the unlocked door should have been a sufficiently obvious sign that there was, phrased with the bluntness that could be the only accurate response, something _massively weird_ going on, but after taking a single peek inside the apartment, there was no room left to deny it.

That very door that he'd just closed behind him was equipped with a mail box that was filled to the brim and beyond, spilling over with pamphlets and advertising letters and the like. Even with the excesses of the habitual paper bombardment current companies seemed so fond of taken into account, it was painfully obvious that it hadn't been emptied in a long, long time. Never mind the mailbox – there were piles of letters catching dust on nearby furniture, or even scattered across the floor!

Nonplussed, Shinji stood in the dark apartment, without anyone to tell him what to do next or to give him anything specific to react to.

"Uh, Ayanami, I'm… I'm coming in now…" he stammered into the air.

He was about to proceed further inside, when he noticed that he, probably owing to his initial discomposure, had forgotten to take off his shoes to upon entering as it was customary in this corner of the world, although Shinji quickly came to suspect that this _wasn't_ the usual custom in _this_ particular apartment – The entire floor was covered in dark skid marks.

Trying not to step on any major agglomerations of dirt, Shinji tiptoed forward, but the rest of the apartment didn't seem all too eager to soothe his deepening perturbation:

There was no flooring and no wall papers; All visible inner surfaces of the building were naked concrete. Even in the minimal twilight governing this apartment, the individual concrete blocks making up the walls could be differentiated, much like the many, many footprints, or the layer of dust on the mostly metallic appliances of the kitchenette, none of which looked like they were actually being used.

By contrast, the greying impermeable plastic curtain that separated what was probably the bathroom from the rest of the minuscule domicile looked _very _time-worn, displaying darker stains where she probably used to grab it to pull it aside, and quite a few broken plastic hooks no longer attached to the corresponding rail on the ceiling.

Everything was submerged into a sea of deep shadows in the manner of a sunken city, with the only illumination being a stray ray of sunlight entering through a tear in the long, heavy nylon curtains that blocked the already small windows somewhere in the next room, separate from the entrance area only through a simple archway, or whatever you'd call a door-shaped hole in a wall that wasn't actually arched.

Irritated, but somehow gripped by a horrible kind of deep yet sudden fascination, Shinji continued to step further inside while avoiding the thought of words that could be used to describe his current actions in an unsavory light.

He felt like he had somehow stepped into a foreign universe that followed very different rules from the ones he had known for most of his life.

The thick curtains were directly attached to some plastic railings glued to the ceiling which was also made up of bare concrete.

The whole place was thickly packed with shadows – there was a lamp, but it was a) off, b) only equipped with two of four possible neon tubes c) didn't even have a covering.

One of the room's upper corners was covered in soot without any evidence that there had ever been an attempt to remove the ugly black stain.

The bed had a frame of black metal bars that made Shinji think of hospital beds; It did, however, feature a reading lamp. The blue sheets were in complete disarray, but they had the components of a girl's uniform corresponding to Shinji's school strewn across them, the first indication that this establishment – Shinji was wary of following his initial impulse to call it a 'hole' – was indeed Rei's domicile.

The pillow was full of blood stains which probably still stemmed from the time in which she had been wearing these thick bandages around her head, and it's covering didn't appear to have been washed or even changed ever since.

It just didn't make any sense… Why would his father allow her to live under such conditions? Why wasn't Ayanami herself doing anything against it?

And where were her parents?

There was hardly enough space for _one_ person, let alone more.

Intoxicated by a numbing concoction of worry about Rei, shock about the state of this place and rapture induced by this paranormal, alien location that was, despite everything, still the inner sanctum of the girl that hardly left Shinji's thoughts and feelings any reprieve since his arrival in Tokyo-3, he let his eyes continue their journey across the room, where they happened across a single, colorless chair that had further articles of clothing draped over it.

On the opposing side of the room, there was a small, white refrigerator only half the height of a person, humming in solitude, and, at the same time, serving as a sort of storage space for all sorts of things that seemed to have its surface as their only designated place; A plastic bag hanging from it seemed to have been repurposed as provisional trash bin and, in its function, had been filled to the brim with all sort of undefinable empty cans, the uppermost of which were identifiable as energy drinks and protein shakes, but there might be vessels for various sorts of canned food further down for as far as he knew – The fact that some of these had spilled onto the floor did not seem to have particularly bothered its owner so far.

On the fridge itself, there was a beaker full of water, right in the path of the only light in the room and its tendency to cause intriguing optical phenomena, in the vincinity of an upside-down cup of transparent plastic and several small jars of distinct kinds of medication, if Shinji was not mistaken. Right next to them were two rolls of fresh bandages – and right next to the fridge, there was an entire cardboard box with _used_ ones, all of them soiled with blood all over – Of course, Shinji was well aware that she had been walking around with a multitude of bandages on her for quite some time, and he understood that this implied changing them on a regular basis, but that didn't make this image any less shocking, the implication that all these pure white bandages whose immaculate outside he had been observing at school had been bright red on the inside all along, continuously being replaced and discarded when the crimson stains reached their surfaces…Quite bluntly, he was forced to realized that her state in all that time she had spent sitting at her desk in solitude because he couldn't bring himself to approach her had been much worse than he ever assumed… And what was the meaning behind all that medication, anyway? What exactly were they for?

It was obvious enough that just asking her would be a rude thing to do and bound to end in some type of gaffe that would ruin his chances with her altogether, but there was no way that this sight _could_ possibly leave him wholly unaffected. Perhaps, he tried telling himself, her use of those pills had only been a temporary state related to her injuries, but most of those were basically gone by now, so what if there was… some other reasons?

Ayanami certainly had a general tendency towards a sickly appearance, especially with that constant deathly pallor of hers… But another implication that didn't just pass Shinji by were that of the simple factum that he would never have learned any of this if he hadn't come here and taken a good look at this place… It wasn't exactly any of his business wether she was somehow sick or not.

He had pretty much barged into her private space without her knowledge or permission.

But while this thought alone was enough to tear his eyes from the fridge, this place still contained many other things capable of capturing his gaze; Behind her bed, there was a metal, ring-like contraption for the purpose of drying clothes which currently had several pieces of underwear hanging down from it, a sight that was a remarkably different experience than the occasional glimpses he had caught of Misato's panties and bras: These small pieces of cloth weren't meant to charm or to please – they simply took up space and existed, plain, ungarnished and taintless pure white. Other than that, there was a small dresser with a few books on it, right next to the window.

That. Was. All.

The main component of this accommodation that Shinji was still browsing in disbelief was still first and foremost empty space.

Shinji didn't quite know what to make of it.

This place had more in common with a… hospital room or laboratory than it did with a girl's room.

It lacked the 'used' smell in the air, the welcoming warmth of a home.

Then, however, Shinji managed to spot one Detail that didn't seem to fit the sterile, impersonal structure of this room, but didn't defy explanation any less than it would have done if it had fit right in:

There, on the small dresser with that slightly-open uppermost drawer, next to two thick books packed with small notes, placed right in the path of the intruding light like some sort of relic, Shinji's gaze was met with a pair of partially cracked glasses in cheap-looking plastic framing.

"Is that Ayanami's?" he wondered, thinking aloud.

As far as he could recall, he had never seen her with glasses before, not even at school. Kensuke's appeared to be permanently glued to his knobbly nose, and even the short time that Mitsurugi had been part of their class had been sufficient for Shinji to notice that he occasionally pulled out a pair of reading glasses to get a better look at his schoolbook or those magazines of his full with brainteasers and riddles, but _Rei?_

In all the time he had spent observing her from afar, he had never noticed her wearing any sort of eyeglasses.

Then, however, he recalled one more person in his immediate environment who was dependent on a visual aid.

Ikari Gendo, supreme Commander of NERV.

Didn't Ritsuko's account of that failed experiment include a pair of his glasses breaking? Could these actually be…?

Partially gripped by some kind of desire to see his world as his father saw it, and in part because of this inherent tendency of unused glasses to exude an irresistible desire to put them on, Shinji carefully placed them in his face – at the worst possible moment.

Just as the Third Child had given in to his curiosity, he heard the swift sound of a curtain being pulled aside.

Given the circumstances, the cracked lenses only allowed him to capture a rather blurred image of its source when he hastily turned around with this rising feeling of being caught red-handed – but that was more than enough.

Her flawless, alabaster skin wrapped in deep shadows.

Her posture, the image of honesty and purity, pulled right out of a silent moment of life without any sort of forced, artificial coquetting.

Her hair, unkempt and undisguised, having only just been revealed from underneath the small, brown towel that she was still half-gripping with her hands, that was still hanging over her consummate body like a tunic over the antique marmoreal likeness of a Greek goddess.

Her thin, but elegant calves that invited the eye to follow them upwards, towards the entirety of her naked, absolutely perfect, naked… naked…

(Right. Something was wrong with this picture, wasn't there?

Something about that word… Did he just say 'naked'?)

…NAKED!

SHE WAS NAKED!

Except for her small, brown towel and her simple, black slippers, which weren't exactly improving the situation, she was absolutely BUTT NAKED, clad only in an authentic ACME birthday suit.

Slightly surprised, she lowered her arms, let go of the towel and abruptly directed her gaze at the Third Child without saying a word.

At this point, Shinji was bluntly seized by raw, undignified panic.

"I-I- I didn't-"

But unfortunately, Shinji didn't manage to squeeze anything intelligible past his lips before Rei's silent scan of his person turned up a result that changed her initially mildly puzzled expression to one that was most definitely not amused.

Single-mindedly, she marched right towards Shinji, her still wet feet coming closer and closer.

Shinji immediately recoiled, mainly in fear of immanent retribution, but also driven by secondary factors such as his being very much overwhelmed by this situation, his general intrinsic tendency to respond to these with flight, and last but not lead two further, formidable shaped factors that seemed to wobble and jiggle with each of Rei's movements and were far too close for _any_ sexual inexperienced teenager's comfort, especially since the first Child didn't make the slightest attempts to cover herself.

But in the end, it didn't help any more hardly understandable "I- I really didn't mean to-", given that there wasn't an infinite amount of space to retreat to: Before long, he was backed against Rei's drawyer by her undeterred advance, and Rei herself boldly put one of her feet between Shinji's and began to extend her slim, pale arms toward his head, showing no inhibitions whatsoever in approaching him with all of her nude, statuesque body as it quaked with breath and motion and residual droplets of water.

But instead of slapping him or grabbing him by the collar, the entire attention of her rounded girlish fingertips was focused on the deformed plastic in Shinji's face.

When she attempted to remove it from his nose, she finally overstepped the limits of what Shinji was able to take in terms of proximity to her naked, female flesh ,including all the… special places of her anatomy that were now mere inches from his own. Incapable of clear thoughts, Shinji instinctively attempted a step backwards although there was no more space to recoil into – Already on the tips of his toes, the Third Child lost his balance for good and struggled to shift his weight as to not fall backwards, which only succeeded in sending him on an unintentional voyage _forward_, which naturally unavoidably caused him to bump into Rei, who, as mentioned before, had been standing at a negligible distance from him.

Fighting to keep their already tangled bodies from falling, both instinctively came up with the idea to hang on to the other at roughly the same instant –

Much later, after they found themselves in a subtly differing but overall similar position in the heart of an ending world, he would come to see this as one of the most obvious sighs of this inherent sense of familiarity he had felt about her from the very beginning, proof that he had intrinsically trusted her to catch his fall – at this very moment, however, he would have been a lot more likely to attribute this action to "Bad Luck" or "Stupidy", based mainly on its immediate consequence: With both of them having the same "glorious" idea, but nothing resembling a firm foothold, the laws of physics left their fumbled attempts to stay afoot with only one possible conclusion:

They fell. Both of them.

As if to add insult to injury, the carrying strap of Shinji's bag ended up getting stock on the half-open drawyer behind him, and just in case the situation wasn't already embarrassing enough, it turned out that she used this particular piece of furniture to store her clothing, more precisely, her underwear.

It was filled with bras and panties, all of which cheerfully joined the two EVA pilots in their flight and descent, scattering all across the room.

Some component of the ensuing confusion even sent the curtain into motion, allowing the light to pass through at a slightly broader angle that allowed its refraction in the slightly stirred contents of the beaker on the refrigerator to become a rainbow.

A rainbow, created by the slightest vibration that would still have sufficed to send even the stillest waters into motion. The same rainbow that Shinji had lately come to associate with defeat over an angel, an ancient symbol for a newly forged bond between a god and humanity, of a contract between the almighty source of all life and its children…

Like a bridge, it stretched across the room and its silence that was only punctuated by the faraway construction sounds, above the two children who didn't dare to move the intertwined twist of flesh that this precarious situation had left their bodies in.

Shinji froze up like a freshly transformed pillar of salt –

He had landed on all fours, but that was the most he could claim;

The towel, which had so far provided at least _a little_ covering for Rei's body was now spread out on the ground, and the glasses which had caused this precarious situation in the first place, had remained safely in her hand despite the fall. Her perfect, flawless body was now resting on the ground without the slightest sign of tension, much unlike Shinji – There wasn't a single part of him that _wasn't_ tight with tension and he had all but lost any capacity to produce clear thought.

Mortified, he realized that he had his right knee right between the legs of a naked girl. Sure, his pants were still forming a barrier between them, but the thin layer of fabric wasn't sufficient to block out all sensations.

He didn't even _want_ to thick about all the possible conclusions that could be drawn from this sight, but the one conclusion that couldn't be evaded was that he was currently on top of a naked girl of whose opinion of him he couldn't even guess at, and just as an extra garnishment, just as the cherry on the cake, he had managed to get this room covered in her entire stack of underwear, including an ill-fated bra that had found his way to his behind through some sort of reverse-miracle.

Silence.

For quite a while, the passage of time was evidenced only by the construction noises coming from outside.

Paralyzed by shock, all he could do was gape at her.

Shinji looked at Rei.

Rei looked at Shinji.

But it wasn't quite the same kind of 'looking', as Shinji began to notice as his initial horror began to ferment into metastasizing uncertainties.

Ayanami Rei was… completely calm.

She was _stark naked _amidst her _own underwear_, beneath a boy with whom she had, at best, exchanged one or two sentences in her life, and devoid of the slightest reaction.

No shame, no fear, no 'Get away from me you pervert!', nothing at all.

And this made it even harder for Shinji to process all of this – If she had been angry, he might have defended himself and returned the complaints, if she were embarrassed, he could have tried to calm her down and aided her in covering herself, but like this, he could only continue to stare at this completely impossible girl with wide eyes.

Was this supposed to be some sort of silent treatment strategy? Would she continue her silence until he was begging for the ground to swallow him up in shame…? Why wasn't she _saying_ anything?

This… this whole was just _wrong_.

Fourteen-year-old girls were supposed to _mind_ strangers of the opposite sex getting a good look at their birthday suit!

Caught beneath the heavy, pressing silence, Shinji couldn't make himself move, very well aware that every passing second probably made him look like even more of a hopeless pervert, and every moment that Rei spent wordlessly looking at him just made it all worse.

"Could you move?" she finally asked, shattering the silence with her quiet, almost frighteningly nonchalant words.

Shinji gladly complied, although the process of separating himself from her made him aware of one spicy little detail that he had failed to notice until now, which in itself was the best proof of just what kind of panic this whole incident had thrown him into.

Normally, this would have been the _first_ thing he should have noticed, and that was only just beginning to describe the truly shocking part, namely, that his left hand had been resting on Rei's left breast for all of this long, long time, fitting snugly around it.

"AAAH!"

Shinji immediately jolted away, hastily raising his arms into the air as he jumped to his feet.

At this point, his strained nerves were very much giving out on him;

This visit could hardly have gone any worse. She was the only other EVA pilot on this godforsaken planet, and now, he had thoroughly convinced her that he was a grope-happy lecher. Just how was he going to face her at school, let alone work with her on a next-to-daily basis? How did he manage to screw this up so fast?

If she didn't begin to hate his guts the moment she stepped out of the shower, she definitely did _now_.

"I…I…I…" He attempted to stammer, knowing in his heart that it would be futile.

For one more instant, Rei remained motionless on the floor, eying him with a stare that was somewhere between minimally puzzled and blankly uncomprehending, before she started moving wordlessly, as if nothing particularly remarkable had taken place, of course sending further waves of motion through her breasts as well.

One she was standing, she didn't appear to be in any further hurry to get away from him, leaving it to Shinji to do enough frantic recoiling for the both of them, uncomfortable with that much bared, female flesh and still half expecting the punishment that never came.

Instead, Rei simply turned around, still in the nude, still without any apparent sense of modesty, still giving little indication that the graceless carom earlier had actually happened, and walked over to her bed in complete serenity.

Shinji couldn't help but stare after her in perplexion.

Half-conciously, Shinji touched the fingers of his left hand together, as if to recapture the feeling of Rei's body, and the residual warmth she had left on him.

Only now that the panic was waning did it sink in that he'd just had his first direct encounter with the nude chest of a human female.

His first impression of it: Warm, soft, smooth. A rather… characteristic consistence, reminiscent of an ideal pillow, not too hard, not to soft, perfect to cuddle with, somewhat acquiescent to his fingers while still retaining a certain firmness, 'al dente' like a good Italian noodle, snugly filling the dome of his hand.

He'd even… felt the nipple's distinct shape against the inside of his palm…

Not particularly bothered by the presence of a male stranger in her room, Rei reached for the clothes she had previously placed on her bed without any particular hurry.

Completely magnetized, Shinji observed as she calmly and nonchalantly picked up that little, elastic piece of cloth and slid both of her shapely calves inside it.

That she was behaving every bit as she would if she were unobserved only helped to make the sight more arousing.

Shinji watched, as she straightened up, her shoulder blades, her spine, the whole arch of her back like the roof of a cathedral, her legs like white, immaculate columns of marble, the light flesh of her body, like a statue, not unusually opulent, leaning more towards the petite side, but still possessing enough substance to invite touch, not excessively thin or skinny or otherwise exaggerated, but altogether unflawed, so very much… _right_, just _right_.

Apart from her statue-like complexion, her build was more or less… normal, but not in the sense of 'average', but in being so all-around perfect that there were no further deviations from the ideal that Shinji could name, no further adjectives he could find to describe her.

Her calves might have been a little bit on the thinner side, but that wasn't as much of a concern when her torso had everything where it should be, including bits of 'padding'; Somewhere in the back of his head, that particular detail generated the feeling that she might have use for a protector, and that was… all right, he guessed.

She pulled her simple, inornate panties up to her lady bits, casually pulled at it to properly cover her buttocks, and somehow, her lone observer found himself fighting off a much stronger reaction than at the sight of Misato's lacy underwear. He couldn't fully explain it, but he guessed that when you took care to correctly present and package yourself before others, if you bought the sort of underwear that you thought others would like to see, you were, to a degree, playing a part, actively _trying_ to please others, which wasn't a bad thing in itself, but what Rei was doing there served no purpose other than itself, didn't attempt to create any image, and wasn't otherwise directed at his person, it was just beautiful in and of itself without even trying.

Only when she bent down anew to pick up her bra and requested to know the reason for his visit in a strikingly nonchalant manner without the involvement of any great emotions did Shinji become fully aware of what he was doing.

He had been _staring_… quite unabashedly… peeped as she had gotten dressed… and thought dirty thoughts, to boot! And she had just demanded an explanation for this mess. What was he going to say, just what in the world was he going to say… He should have known that she'd confront him sooner or later, she _was_ a girl after all, it would be highly foolish to assume even for a moment that she might _not_ hate his guts after this.

"I, uhm, I…" Shinji stammered desperately, wrestling his own panic. He lowered his gaze. His mouth opened, air exited his lungs, but the goddamn words refused to let go of his tongue.

In the meantime, Rei, whose absurdly shapely backside now stretched her plain white underpants where it wasn't partially exposed, as around that area where the garment in question only covered that small strip between her legs, had succeeded in correctly positioning her mostly functionally-designed bra and was currently busy slipping her dainty, faultless arms through the straps, a timeless ideal captured in material shape, much like Botticelli's Venus.

But while her body might be saying 'renaissance', the short, uncomplicated haircut forming a loose bob around her head was closer to saying 'Nineties Sci-Fi haircut'.

The longest reaches of her hair parted around her back of her neck, and every time she moved, they subtly changed their position- Oh no, was he staring again?

Ashamed, Shinji averted his gaze, forcing himself not to look back. Unbelievable. So this was supposed to be his very first, proper birds-and-bees experience with a girl his age – and not just _any_ girl his age! – and he had already thoroughly blown it before he realized what was happening.

What if she told _his father_ about this?

He scrambled for a way to save this situation, if such a thing was indeed still within the realm of possibility.

"I… I'm here because… because I was asked to!" he finally produced, after numerous fruitless attempts. "I, er… what was it again… eh… Your card! Your new security card! Your… card's been renewed and I was, eh, asked to bring it to you!"

By now, Rei was busy buttoning up her uniform blouse.

"Ritsuko-san forgot to give it to you, so I, uhm, I… I… I wanted-" Shinji's words grew progressively quieter and further apart, until he paused entirely, perhaps for an attempt to audibly swallow his mounting sense of complete failure.

Rei herself didn't seem to be paying the slightest attention to his attempted excuses, and just kept putting on her dress without the slightest reaction or comment, landing a critical hit with her full-scale cold shoulder assault.

And right now, Shinji couldn't picture any logical reason for this other than her being every bit as pissed as one would assume her to be.

This entire visit had been a complete and utter failure without the slightest consolatory detail.

So, there he got a pretext to actually talk to the girl he had been whacking his brains about since his arrival, and what did he do? He'd ended up groping and ogling her!

Even now, he struggled to keep his restless gaze in check, mainly because his current, nervous state wouldn't allow it to rest anywhere for too long.

"I'm so, so sorry… I really didn't want to-"

But she wasn't even listening to his fumbled apologies. Her attention remained where it had been all along – on the broken glasses she had carefully placed in the corresponding box, before closing it with a clicking sound.

Unnoticed by Shinji, the faintest of all smiles flowed over the mysterious girl's lips as she regarded the box with a look of certitude, replaying pleasant memories.

What he didn't know was that being unclothed in front of other people, or sterile, lab-like dwellings might as well have been the most normal things in the world to her – The entire turbulent mishap could have been avoided if he had avoided one single mistake: Touching her most cherished possession, those glasses she treasured like a relic ever since the incident.

Having succeeded in protecting it from harm filled her with a warm feeling and made her think of the occasion on which she had acquired her prized memento.

"I-I really didn't know!" Shinji kept stammering, still lost somewhere between dread and helplessness. "I did ring the doorbell, but no one opened up, and the door was unlocked, so…- I _really_ didn't mean to…"

He was still talking when the squeaking of the front door interrupted him, leaving him all alone in the small apartment.

He couldn't believe it.

She really just walked right past him and left…

* * *

><p>Since she hadn't even heard him out, Shinji had enough reason to suppose that she had to be significantly angrier than she looked and probably didn't feel like looking at his face right now.<p>

With this axiom in mind, it should be hardly surprising that Shinji spent the whole trip to headquarters without daring to hand her that stupid card.

Once again, he was stuck with observing her from afar.

Unfortunately, he could not avoid being headed into the same direction as her, resulting in him following a couple of meters after the quiet girl as she single-mindedly followed her path through the inner city, lacking the heart to approach her any further.

He didn't want to provoke a gesture of open rejection from _her_ of all people, so he kept his distance, not faring any better during their mutual tram ride to headquarters, which didn't really have anything 'mutual' about it – They were sitting at the opposite of the same Wagon, with a large door in between the benches they were sitting on, and while Shinji might have stolen the occasional downcast glance at her, she didn't deem him worth a single look throughout their journey.

They reached their destination without having exchanged as much as a single word, and before long, they were standing in front of the very gates this accursed security card was supposed to open.

Shinji swallowed hard – it was now, or never.

Rei was already standing before the card reader, slightly raising her head in surprise when it didn't accept her old one.

Her next try wasn't much more effective, but at least it distracted her enough for Shinji to personally swipe her new keycard through the slot and hand it to her with a smile. "This is your new security card. Ritsuko-san asked me to bring it to you."

This was enough to actually make her turn around, appear mildly perplexed for an instant, and then properly face her fellow pilot – only to snatch the card right out of his hand and leaving once again without paying a shred of attention to him, just when he thought he'd finally pulled off the whole prince charming routine with some degree of success.

He really just fucked up any chance he might ever have had with her, didn't he?

In any case, the urge to hide away somewhere and return with a paper bag over his head – or not at all – was hard to resist. A demanding silence hung between the two of them as they both went down the impossibly long escalator that led them down into the depths of nerv HQ as the stairs of its twin right moved upward right next to them.

As long as he kept quiet, he couldn't say anything wrong.

Still, despite his better judgment, Shinji forced himself to attempt one further apology – He'd already incurred the wrath of the girl he hadn't been able to get out of his head for the last few weeks, and if that wasn't enough, she might just go and tell his father. How much worse could it possibly get?

After swallowing down everything that could have trapped his words in his throat, he once again turned to the silent girl who remained motionless with her back to him, several steps further down.

"Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened…"

"What do you mean?" she asked, still not looking at him.

She wasn't even being sarcastic here, she really, honestly didn't seem to know what he might be apologizing for. Or was she just pretending not to be upset? He couldn't get a clear look at her face, after all. Was it really possible for an adolescent girl to care so little about being seen naked (let alone being groped) by a boy her age, to the point of considering it a complete non-event?

The thought of the mere possibility just seemed overwhelmingly _wrong,_ if not downright eerie.

That way, just anyone could just walk in there and-

He didn't even want to _continue_ this thought, let alone imagine how Touji, Kensuke or his father would comment any of this.

But at least, Rei had replied, with this small, high voice of hers that always sounded like she was on the verge of fainting or something like that.

Now that the chance of a proper conversation had presented itself, he couldn't afford to let it slip by, lest he waste his last chance to somehow correct that rotten first impression.

But for that, he'd need something else to converse about for the rest of the long escalator ride… which was easier said than done when he hardly knew anything about her and whether they had anything in common… but wait. There was one he certainly knew about her, something they surely shared…

The one thing he'd longed to speak about for a long, long time now, with the perhaps only person on this world who could see it from his perspective and understand it on the most immediate level.

"Er, I… I've heard that they want you to do the reactivation experiment today…"

Riding a wave of premature hope Shinji lowered himself onto the escalator's next step, decreasing the physical distance between them by a discrete, measurable amount to match his expectations of making their emotional distance shrink a proportional amount. "I… I'm obviously hoping that everything will be fine this time, but…" he vocalized with surprising ease before reaching the hot topic: "…Aren't you afraid at all? To pilot Unit Zero again, I mean."

"Why should I be?" she asked, at most very mildly surprised, but ostensibly not moved by any sort of major emotion.

Shinji wished her answers were longer so he'd have more to craft replies with. But at least she _had_ answered. For the second time in a row, too… so maybe she _really wasn't_ angry at him! At least, he had yet to spot any sighs of disdain or discontention, and this time, he found that thought relieving.

"It's just that… I've heard that you were badly injured in the last experiment so I was wondering… whether you're all right with doing it again…"

"Yes. I am."

"But… what if your EVA goes berserk again? …Or what if we're killed by an angel!" Shinji asked, voicing his own fears more than anything else. He couldn't fathom how she could simply _accept_ all this, and even less what the purpose behind her next question was supposed to be:

"You are Commander Ikari's son, aren't you?"

"Yes… I am…" Shinji answered hesitantly.

"Then why don't you have any faith... in your father's work?"

Faith? _Faith?!_

Over the course of an instant, his fingers turned to fists, and his featured hardened as if at the touch of a button. What kind of _faith _was he supposed to have in the ominous schemes of a man who hadn't deemed it necessary to show his face to his own son for the better part of the last eleven years?

A man who, after all that, still had the nerve to demand of him to climb into this huge, violet _thing_ that could go crazy at any moment, for the explicit purpose of fighting to the death in some bizarre gladiator games?

_Faith?! _Bah!

Shinji might as well have burst out in laughter, if all of this weren't rousing such anger and desperation that he wound up speaking without thinking first:

"…_of course_ not! He's hardly any father at all! He doesn't deserve any faith!"

Poor Shinji.

When Rei turned around wordlessly of all sudden, he was still hoping that she might have decided to actually face him while they conversed, but at very least when she went up a step, positioned herself directly in front of him and looked him straight into the eye, it was apparent to him that something had gone very wrong.

And he was right. Ayanami Rei may have been a relatively modest, frugal person, but there was one single thing she would insist on, one golden rule that had to be observed in her presence, and Shinji had just broken it:

Do. Not. Insult. Ikari. Gendo.

**SLAP**

Rei turned away from Shinji without further comments, coldly pointing the back of her head at his general direction.

Meanwhile, Shinji himself was still holding his reddened cheek with an expression of bewilderment right next to it.

He would never have thought that such a delicate, sickly-looking girl who had been wrapped in bandages from head to toe until recently would be capable of causing such supreme pain – She was either a lot stronger than she looked, or it had been _very_ important to her to get her point across, probably something about him being an asshole.

Either way, if she didn't hate him after the debacle in her apartment, she definitely did _now._

At first, the Third Child couldn't explain her reaction – then he recalled seeing them together in the cages… As far as he could tell, they seemed to be rather close… _of course_ she was pissed.

He should have seen this one coming from ten kilometers away, and he'd still successfully managed to put his foot in his mouth in the most disastrous way….

Shinji didn't doubt that he totally deserved that slap.

Still, he was sufficiently confused by the sheer intensity of her reaction, if not anything else – This girl who hadn't as much as _flinched_ when her private space had been violated in the crudest possible way had went and pretty much demolished half his face for speaking ill of her superior. (…and not without reason!)

Shinji just had a hard time grasping what her thoughts and reasons could possibly be – His father was probably the coldest, most hardhearted person he had ever personally interacted with in an immediate, face-to-face fashion, to the point that Shinji sometimes doubted whether he even _had_ feelings. So why would anyone defend him in such a pointed, deliberate manner? Shinji couldn't fathom why Rei, or indeed anyone would have such profound respect for him…

Except that the man who had smiled at her in the cage and personally saved her from her overheated entry plug two months ago bore very little resemblance to the icy, disinterested person Shinji knew as his father.

The Ikari Gendo _he_ knew shouldn't even be _capable_ of anything like this.

But what did Shinji know about that man at all?

He might as well have a very different side to him that Shinji just hadn't witnessed yet…

If Rei was so attached to him then… maybe he wasn't a bad person per se, and Shinji just… didn't understand him, or hadn't proven himself worthy yet…

But the boy suffocated the seeds of hope as soon as they had begun germinating.

Even _if_ his father had something like a 'nicer side', he had still chosen Rei, and not him as the person to place his faith in.

Once again, he wondered just _what_ the exact relationship between the Commander of NERV and his most enigmatic devotee really was.

Silent and thoroughly discouraged, but lacking an aim of his own, he idly followed her from a respectful distance until she disappeared behind the door of the girl's locker room to prepare for her experiment.

Staring at the closed door, he was painfully aware that it was far from being the only gateway that would readily open for her, but never for him. By far not! He might as well be standing before the tightly closed door to his father's heart – no doubt that it would also be this kind of mechanized thing, and that whatever receiving space had ever existed behind it to begin with was already taken up by Rei. By _Rei_, who, not too long ago, had been willing to face almost certain death in this man's name, on the day he had first boarded unit one in her place, without a moment's hesitation or the faintest sign of fear.

It was fairly obvious why just about anyone would prefer her to a useless coward like himself.

He was merely an inferior, unsatisfactory replacement – and now that the proper article was nearing a full recovery, it was only a matter of time until he would have outlived the only usefulness he ever had, and he'd go back into the darkness of his unnecessary existence, superfluous to everyone, like some outdated piece of technology, waiting only to be discarded – by Misato, by Dr. Akagi, and most certainly by his father.

For all he might have managed to scrape together for himself since his arrival, there was just no place reserved for him in this world, just an aimless drift from one temporary arrangement to the next, none of which he could permanently take hold of and make it his own. It was just another repeat of what had happened with his teacher, and he should probably start thinking of Misato as just another temporary caretaker to mitigate the inevitable.

It didn't feel right to dismiss the fleeting, novel flickers of new, unprecedented experiences that had come his way here in Tokyo-3, but he would be doing his old teacher an injustice if he claimed that life at his place had been all bad – it had just never been quite _his_.

Nothing ever was, starting with his own father.

His precious heir and subordinate, the one he showed his smile to was _Rei_.

And that left very little room for Shinji.

* * *

><p>In any case, he didn't play too large a role in Rei's thoughts as she was preoccupied with donning her plugsuit. She briefly pressed the button on her wrist, and immediately, the rubber-like fabric began to tightly envelop her pristine body.<p>

Even now, the reverberation of past words raised a persistent, elated smile from her lips. The incredulous voices of the technicians, who couldn't believe that their Commander would risk permanent burn scars for the sake of the First Child, the audible concern in his voice, even though none of that could have possibly affected the plan, even though he had more than enough 'spare parts' in the basement…

Since Rei had known about the rather slim list detailing the reasons and purposes of her existence from the very beginning, she never saw a reason to expect anything beyond that; For that reason, it had been all the harder to miss that the commander had always treated her… different. Distinct from what the rest of the staff did. He stayed longer, he looked at her more, he always spoke to her more than it was strictly necessary to convey orders or take care of her 'maintenance', and at times, he would even request her presence for no discernible reason other than wanting her in his proximity.

He had been the only one to give her any sort of emotional input and form anything resembling a bond with her – and this bond had shaped her. Not just because he had created her and given her a purpose. She, too, had become a stoic, tight-lipped person, but also devoted and unwavering, unchained by hesitation, most faithful mirror of his image.

Or, to make a long story short: He practically raised her.

One could arguably say that he was the closest thing she ever had to a parent.

_Of course_ she had faith in him.

* * *

><p>"Rei? Can you hear me?"<p>

"Yes, Sir." She affirmed tonelessly.

After nearly two months, Rei was back in the entry plug of Evangelion Unit Zero.

Ikari took a moment to push his glasses up, as if he wanted his stare to be at its most piecing when he directed it at the cyclopean war machine.

"Begin experiment."

The control room swiftly filled with the typing noises and announcements of various technicians; It was hard to overlook that all of them looked notably stressed – No one wanted a repeat of the incident that had halted all such experiments for the last months.

Even Ikari and Rei had a certain tension about them – which already implied that Misato and Shinji, who were watching the spectacle from a small window in the wall of the test chamber, were far from unaffected: The leader of the operations division kept herself ready for action with a cup of coffee, and the Third Child was leaning forward past the handrail, refusing to take his glance off EVA 00 for as much as a second.

So far, everything seemed to be going well.

As for Rei herself, she had been directing her gaze strictly ahead, paying little mind to the spectacle of flashing lights that came with the activation of the interface, but while the muscles in her face hardly moved at all, it was the expression in her eyes that betrayed her.

Being in this seat should not merit any extraordinary reactions from her, after all, this was what she was created to do – but for some reasons, she couldn't entirely stop her thoughts from going back to the memories of the last experiment.

It wasn't because of the pain, the injuries or anything about the evangelion; All of that was part of her role. This sensation of daunting heaviness did not stem from the results of the accident, but its cause. There had been this stirring, somewhere in this dark, intangible expanse in the depths of her being, some sort of distorted memory… The last thing she recalled was the sight of Dr. Akagi, Subcommander Fuyutsuki and Commander Ikari in the window to the control room. She must have been shot out of the EVA right after that, leaving her with nothing but wild, confusing visions without coherent pictures behind them and a thick coating of afterglow that made her feel… hollow somehow, like she could just disappear into this nightmare altogether at any given moment, never to wake again, if _she_ hasn't been the dream to begin with, an ephemeral ghost light being sustained by the dreaming of something much, much larger that might just forget her in the blink of an eye, just like everyone else would forget her when they saw her exposed fakeness and grew bewitched by this _real_ and _true_ self existing behind her, taking everything for itself, her life, her flesh, her validity as a consciousness with a story and very own reflections, each and every minute remainder of her existence, absorbed, devoured, swallowed whole by the alien darkness.

She glanced at the Commander's glasses right next to her seat. There it was, a simple, yet undeniable proof that Rei's life so far had been real, that _she_ was real, and that no other possibility was remotely likely enough to justify detracting her thoughts and attentions from this plane and her tasks here. She had her purpose and her connections, and she knew those were real. She had her place in the gears and frameworks of the plan.

She was _of_ all of this, of the things she had done and the people she had been involved with, shaped and defined by them, most of all by the Commander.

He was her creator, her lynchpin, her anchor in this imitation of a life, so where else could she be, where else could she possibly belong?

There should be no reason for her to experience any stress.

Indeed, the activation was proceeding smoothly so far, but they were currently nearing the critical part… The point at which things went horribly wrong last time.

Still visibly depressed, the Third Child immersed himself in the announcements of the technicians, that is, what little of them he could actually make sense of.

After over a month in this city, and a day that may have contained his best chance to get to know her properly, he was still where he had started: Watching her from the distance.

He felt quite close to being crushed by the weight of the endless doubts and questions.

Even Misato was dead serious as she observed the experiment in silent suspicion, and judging by Fuyutsuki's expression, one might think that he was pretty much expecting another fiasco – Merely Dr. Akagi maintained her composed, professional exterior, and that only as long as she wasn't glancing at the visibly worried expression on the Commander's typically icy, hard features, which he either didn't notice or failed to acknowledge, as he kept staring straight ahead through the glass pane that formed the boundary of the control room.

The countdown continued, the lights on the screens lit up one by one – and nothing happened.

It worked.

Regardless, no change was visible on Rei's visage, even as she announced that she would now proceed with further tests – but she never got to proceed.

One of the countless telephones built into the various consoles of the control room started ringing, and Fuyutsuki was the one to pick it up – and as soon as he put the receiver back in its slot, he immediately turned to his superior: "Ikari. An unidentified object is approaching. I fear the Sixth Angel has arrived."

"Abort the experiment immediately!" the Commander ordered, slipping back into his usual poker face in an instant. "All hands to battle stations! Declare red alert immediately."

"Understood." Fuyutsuki confirmed. "Are you going to use Unit Zero?"

"No. It's not ready for battle yet, and neither is Rei. What about Unit One?" he asked, directing the question in Dr. Akagi's general direction without fully turning around.

"We'll have it prepared in 380 seconds."

"Very well. Take care of it."

"Yes, Sir."

Once Ikari had taken care of that, he directed his undivided attention back to Rei, whom he addressed with a much more neutral, if not almost reassuring tone very different from the forcefully barked out orders reserved for the rest of the rest of the room: "Rei. The experiment was a success. You can come out now."

"Good." she answered quietly while the interface dissolved around her.

Only when the interior of the plug had gone dark again did she finally lean back and exhale a few bubbles of residual air in relief.

Everything had turned out all right.

She would be able to continue fulfilling her purpose.

* * *

><p>While Rei was out of the crucible for today, Shinji's ordeal was just about to begin. The Third Child has felt his blood run cold the very instant he heard the world "Angel".<p>

For most of the last week and the peaceful times that had come with it, he had tried his best to forget that a new enemy could appear at their doorstep at any given moment, and bring with it fresh, juicy pain and a new batch of horrible memories…and now, the time had come. It was all up to him again. Everything, _everything_ would be resting in his hands, on his shoulders, balanced on the top of his head, and he knew very well that there was no way he could keep up this cosmic tightrope act indefinitely… until now, he had stumbled through the battles in a blind panic, surviving through a lot of dumb luck, but he still didn't have any idea _how_ to actively precipitate victory in any sort of ordered fashion.

His dread grew with every restraint that was released from the Evangelion's body.

There he was, back in his plug suit, enveloped by LCL, with his interface headset attached to his scalp, so very ready to meet his doom at last.

Why?

Why was he even doing this? This would probably be his last sortie regardless of whether he lived through the battle or not. What difference did that even make? His father probably wouldn't need him for much longer, and if he wasn't needed as an EVA-pilot… he wouldn't be important to anyone at all… Not to Misato, not to Touji, not to Kensuke…

Misato didn't even bother to prepare him with a few soothing words; She was already assuming that he would just go along with this, after all, doing this was his… payment for being allowed to stay here…

And he had chosen to do that, hadn't he?

But that was with the last horrible torment safely in the fading past, not seconds from his present. Much like when he'd first agreed to fight in unit one, all this was a lot easier said than done.

Why had he stayed, in the first place? Because he wanted to stay with Misato? Because he'd hoped for something from his father? To protect Rei from what awaited her if she took his place?

He could still see her right now, on a walkway on the walls of the cage, still in her plug suit, looking in his direction, like she could fixate his eyes all the way through the armor plates of his Evangelion.

He certainly couldn't explain _why_ she would be here – After the unfortunate events of the day, there was little doubt that she probably loathed him by now.

Just another bullet point in the long, long list of things he had managed to screw up in his relatively short life so far.

While EVA 01 shot towards the surface through Tokyo-3's network of launch shafts, Shinji wondered if there was a single thing in his life that he _hadn't_ screwed up…

* * *

><p>(1) Rei's very much present sequence of expressions throughout the… unfortunate encounter and the rest of the progression is, for the most part noted as such in the episode 5 script. Despite her naysayers, Rei, or at least the second version, was never "emotionless" to begin with – If such simplifying labels can be applied at all, she was a bona fine Kuudere from the start. I'm aware that this chapter has been rather lacking in terms of new scenes, but with a debut as significant as Rei's, I felt the need to properly establish and elaborate on the initial state before any development can happen. The ep 5 script, BTW, also explicitly states multiple times that Shinji had a hard time tearing his eyes from the… goodies, in case you were, uh, wondering.<p>

(2) I hope Shinji's inner monologues weren't too tiring/frustrating to read, although they were kind of supposed to be. He has his frustrating moments. But he also has this very specific, "closed" way of perceiving the world (esp. in the prologue arc), and it was important for me to get that across/ portray this properly, including the circular aspects of it, especially since the Futagoyama-Incident and the major shift that comes with it is around the corner.

(3) I'm inconsolable. All this after I had promised less waiting… I have to thank all of you who still remembered WTF this was by the time the last chapter came out. Either way, if none of this had deterred you, you may look forward to the next chapter, the conclusion of the battle, and the conclusions that both Shinji and Misato draw based on the earlier… uh, conclusion. Chapter 13: [Operation Yashima]


	14. 13: Operation Yashima

**13: [Operation Yashima]**

* * *

><p><em>Boku no sekai kieru made<em>

_aenu nara_

_kimi no soba de nemurasete  
><em>

_(:)  
><em>

_If I see you once more _

_Before my world ends_

_Let me rest at your side_**  
><strong>

**_-Utada Hikaru, 'Beautiful world'_**

* * *

><p>The escaped subject released the fingers on her outstretched arm from the firm first they had been pressed into, looking past them to assess the results of her very own little 'experiment' with a thin, pleased grin.<p>

At her feet were a few intermingling puddles of orange liquid.

The output was notably less viscous this time, completely homogenous to the naked eye and free of any residual meat or bone that could have linked the substance to the remains of the small family that had once owned this lavishly furnished apartment.

This time, the liquefaction had been complete.

The entity looked back at her now splayed fingers, her arm still extended to its full horizontal length.

The experience of power was still pulsing through her being.

She wondered what else she might be capable of.

Instead of the oversized men's clothing she was last seen with, she had now donned a green skirt of fairly adequate fit, accompanied by a camisole of similar coloration. She had, however, stayed faithful to caps, although she was no longer wearing the same one, or bothering to stuff all of her hair inside of it.

One might conclude that her degree of awareness, or at very least her information procession capabilities were steadily developing, much like her abilities.

Now, they were finally mature enough to implement her plan.

Very soon, she would be able to open the gate.

Still.

Somehow, the being felt this persistent notion that something was still missing, something beyond the 'ingredients' she would have to gather and process for the opening of the gate to occur.

But her thoughts were interrupted when she felt new calls infringing on the edges of her consciousness.

She turned to one of the windows of the expensivelyfurnished, yet small apartment, narrowing her eyes in question.

"Another one of yours, Adam?"

* * *

><p>In numerous little rivulets, the red water ran down the blue, smooth surface, back to the depths it had come from. No single drop remained stuck to the surface – the sharp-edged shapes of the sixth angel was void of any irregularities for them to cling to.<p>

Ramiel, the Angel of thunder, shot into the sky like a cannonball and then gracefully floated back down, leaving the sea behind to head towards the fortress of the Lillim like his predecessors had done.

The ocean, that lifeless, red goop that had resulted from an incomplete attempt to create a world suitable for beings like himself, had been his refuge for long enough.

Now, it was Ramiel's own turn to finally lead that process to completion and claim the Promised Land for his kind.

Seemingly weightless, the messenger descended, reflecting the sea and the clouds on its surfaces and casting a peculiar shadow on the landcape, one that was only dark and defined on the edges, but yielded to dancing light toward the middle, remainders of sunlight that had fallen into the semitransparent structures of crystalline creature, and revealed the continuous processes taking place inside, where only strange, impossible shapes and bizarre processes of refraction, diffraction and diffusion could be glimpsed, which probably gave the being its color in the same way the ocean and sky had acquired theirs.

While his predecessors had still been vaguely humanoid or at least instantly recognizable as organic structures, Ramiel manifested itself in the pure, abstract shape of a floating octahedron.

But his outward form wasn't the only thing that's different.

If Ramiel had been human and interacted with other humans as such, he might have been described as level-headed, cold, ambitious and analytical in his thoughts; Unlike his siblings, he saw no reasons to just storm the Lillims' fortress and allow himself to hand all control to his instincts afterwards – Instead, he already had a clear plan, a concrete pattern of behavior, a definite algorithm he would follow to gain direct access to his target decreeing how he would react to any given obstacle.

Even his presence was distinct; Not heavy, booming and metallic, but sharp and vitreous, distantly recognizable as poised, even elegant, as he weightlessly floated over the landscape reflected in his surface, not all too long after he first appeared as a glittering dot beyond the shore.

Part of his calls even traversed the spectrum of mechanic vibrations that humans could have sensed acoustically, although that small audible strip would have been a rather poor distortion of the whole and its message, but even if it had been decipherable, communication would still have remained impossible, it was just not in their nature – The messenger's voice wasn't made to transport any kind of information from point A to point B, but radiated from him into all directions, like the light of a star.

The messenger's steady calls, a sound resembling a chimera of whale song, tuning forks, wine glasses and the acoustic equivalent of an electron's diffraction pattern, accompanied him on his journey over the land he aimed to reclaim.

* * *

><p>Shinji felt the acceleration forces as EVA 01 was being propelled towards the surface through the launch shaft, not exactly abiding by the textbook definition of a smooth ride.<p>

He tried his best to brush back his churning emotions and mentally prepare for the battle.

With every meter, he could feel the deadly danger he would be exposing himself to closing in on him, enough to make him fear that it might physically clasp him in its cold arms with the suddenness of a gust of wind and drain him of everything that kept him from losing it right here, right now in an icy vampiric kiss the very moment the enemy would become an undeniable part of his reality.

As much as he might try to keep this specific conclusion out of his thoughts, it was anything but easy.

Dead serious, the pilot EVA 01 felt himself speeding towards his fate – and said fate didn't make him wait.

He had yet to reach the surface when Ramiel's body began to detach from itself along the central edges and gather luminescence within the gap, indicating that he must have recognized and assessed the threat by means other than classic sight.

The technicians in central dogma did notice a sudden energy surge within the enemy, but it was too late.

Misato's order to flee reached Shinji the exact same moment in which his Evangelion reached the surface, and so did the angel's particle beam, split seconds later.

The messenger's crystalline body split into two symmetric tetrahedrons, only for the inner surfaces to part into countless small cubes, amongst which the core gleamed, a crimson sphere amidst azure cubes, almost as if he wanted to peer at his opponent from a safe position, figuratively "look them in the eye" before sending them destruction.

Next, however, the angel proceeded to make quick work of his opponent, right according to plan: His form twisted into numerous intersecting prisms of various sizes, and the halation that had previously formed around the core blasted forth effulging intensity, burned its way through several skyscrapers, leaving the atoms in their liquefied remainders fluorescing in their exited states after a sizeable radius around the relatively compact beam had been fully obliterated, and from there, continued right into the chest plate of EVA 01.

The violent giant's AT-field broke so fast that its existence might have gone completely unnoticed from as much as an ill-timed blink – and before the hypothetical observer would have fully opened their eyes, the spot in question would have been glowing like the sun from that brief fraction of the angel's unyielding assault.

Sparks were flying, bright drops of light, charge and occasionally molten metal, in tandem with the flickering of the interface before the eyes of the pilot, who was hopelessly overwhelmed by the foreign pain, frantically trying to grasp the light beam drilling into his seemingly burning chest in an instinctive attempt to keep it from pressing the LCL out of his lungs and his blood out of his lungs.

Patently, there was nothing for Shinji's hands to get hold of; The incandescent beam that kept pumping pure, unfiltered pain into his body was far outside the entry plug.

The indescribable agony prevented any thinking, planning, or even the formation of coherent thought. All he could do was scream.

He could no longer process all these little voices in the control center, deliberating about lowering his synch ratio or deploying an armor plate, although the latter suggestion was barely register when it was actually carried out and resulted in the massive shield successfully blocking the particle beam, leaving Shinji behind in sudden darkness, wildly twitching and barely breathing, with the afterglow of the searing pain that still burned in every fiber of his body as his only company.

He had yet to stop creaming when the angel shifted to a new, cross-like foundation and generated a beam of analogous shape, which proved much more potent than the last, obliterating the shield like ice cream in the sunshine, flinging the molten remainders of the plate against the completely defenseless Evangelion, along with the high-energy particles constituting the beam.

At this point, Captain Katsuragi saw no choice but to abort the operation.

But even the way back seemed lost to them: The launching pad that had only just transported the violet colossus to the surface was reduced to a puddle of molten metal.

The video feed on the main screen which displayed EVA 01's partially glowing, partially molten armor from multiple angels made their situation fairly apparent, and the graphs and figures on the technician's various consoles weren't sugarcoating it either.

But no graph, no string of numbers could have possibly described the infernal torment Shinji was experiencing at that very moment; Vaporized matter ascended from the patch of blinding, horrific mess the beam ended in, telling tales of what was obscured from view by a radiance so bright it made a magnesium flame look like a match compared to the sun.

A huge, red danger notice sat in the middle of the interface that had long since stopped to show anything other than brightness that burns the eye, but one might wonder why. What need was there for error messages in a war machine that made its user feel like his very own skin was in the process of being barbecued? Somehow, Shinji could still smell the Evangelion's charred flesh through the ionized, luminescent air, and what little subconscious part of him was still attempting to process this ordeal couldn't differentiate between the EVA's body and his own.

The boy was screaming ceaselessly, expulsing an unbroken stream of ill-formed, primal sounds from his gaping mouth hole; There was no recognition in his wide open eyes.

The LCL surrounding him, including what he carried in his lungs, was beginning to boil and bubble all around him; The entry plug had turned into a furnace, transmitting its terrific heat to his body's exposed soft tissues, straight through the inner mucous membranes where the suit didn't provide the slightest bit of relief, as if to aid its transmogrification into some other material, and low and behold, the heavenly crucible soon revealed its most appraised product: The burning wish, no, plea, no, prayer that the angel's beam might finally reach the EVA's control unit and blow him all the way to the hereafter, if only that would stop this excruciating torture.

He couldn't escape, he couldn't break free, and it JUST. WOULD. NOT. STOP.

"**GET ME OUT!**" his raw, desperate screeches reverbed through the command center, sprinkling the technicians' faces with worry and shock. "**I CANT TAKE IT ANY MORE, JUST GET ME OUT OF HERE! GET ME OUT OF HERE, DADDY, JUST GET ME OUT!**"

Ikari kept his dead serious glance transfixed on the screens, but didn't as much as flinch otherwise – Not even Shinji's singular use of the 'D'-Word was enough to yield a physical response from him – In sharp contrast to Misato, for whom the never-ending screams were so torturous that she might as well have been the target of the particle beam herself.

She was no longer able to reliably conceal her emotions behind a façade of reliability.

"RECOVERING THE PILOT HAS MAXIMUM PRIORITY! EJECT THE ENTRY PLUG _RIGHT NOW_!" she shouted, frayed. _She_ had made him climb back into that thing. _She_ had done this to him.

"Cancel that order." Ikari's deep, serious, yet almost unnaturally calm voice resounded from his place behind this lower platform.

Misato whirled around in an instant, half appalled, half fueled by incomprehension, but Dr. Akagi was already standing in her line of sight, prepared to spew justifications: "If the EVA loses its pilot, the AT-field will collapse immediately. We can't afford to lose Unit One right now."

Misato still supplied a small "But…!" , yet ended up averting her eyes from her co-worker when she was forced to realize that she was right.

Without its AT-field, EVA 01 would probably be blown away like autumn foliage in a gust of wind, and the rest of humanity – including Shinji, if he could even be safely ejected without the entry plug melting in the comet tail of the EVA's destruction – would follow it swiftly.

Regardless, Misato couldn't deny her repulsion at the thought that Dr. Akagi, Commander Ikari, and ultimately even she were entertaining such clinical calculations to the adorable "background music" of a fourteen-year-old boy screaming his lungs out.

This grotesque performance… had to end _right now_.

"That's enough!" She called, decisive. "Emergency recovery of the entire sector! Detonate all of the explosive bolts!"

At the touch of a button, several rows of carefully placed explosive capsules ignited beneath the city. Trees shook, trucks tumbled into the emergent abyss.

An entire city block sunk away to unseen dephts beneath Ramiel's burning beam.

Realizing that he had been victorious – at least for the time being – he ceased the bombardment and triumphantly folded back into his preferred octahedral form accompanied by a resounding metallic clang.

* * *

><p>In short, Shinji's initial reaction amounted to a general mental state of '<em>Not again!<em>'.

He was back at this place that really wasn't anywhere, that state characterized by a sense of a warm flow – But this time, Shinji didn't open himself to the unreal dreamscape that once again manifested as a surreal version of the train car from ten years ago, kept only in the colors of the evening sun. Since the last time he was here, missing bits and gaps in his memory appeared to have been closed or filled out, supplemented with bits and peaces of last week's tram.

The place seemed more three-dimensional and accessible, more like something a person could actually stand in, but that didn't interest him in the slightest.

Last time he'd seen this, he had been inside the Evangelion, and that was exactly where he _didn't_ want to be right now.

"I don't want to do this anymore." He told the light-drenched emptiness of the wagon, huffishly refusing to partake in the flow of warmth surrounding him.

It tasted of the heat that singed him.

He couldn't take any more of this.

He just couldn't take it!

Yes, he had decided to stay here and keep doing this after the events of last week, but that was because he thought that the worst was already behind them, that things would get better somehow after he survived and recovered from the last ordeal.

But this time, he didn't have a chance _at all_!

Even in hindsight, he couldn't think of a single thing he might have done… In the end, he had to go through all that suffering all over again, if not significantly _worse_ than even the last time. All of this disgustingly undignified suffering, the pain, the purest distillate of mortal fear…

What for? Just why did he do this to himself?

Because of the _one time _Misato told him he did something right?

That had relativized itself quite quickly, much like the initial enthusiasm of his classmates.

There were a few incidents where someone said something, usually at the very beginning, but overall…

Overall…

"Hardly anyone really praises me, because they already take it for granted that I'll fight and win anyway. And if I lose, if I do the slightest bit wrong, everyone will hate me…"

That was no childlike oversimplification he'd just convinced himself of, that was a real possibility – He'd spent his life so far as a citizen of a world that had only just pulled itself back from the brink of annihilation, and like survivor of the impact wars, he couldn't be oblivious of what people could be driven to in desperate situations. He had been too young to experience any of this personally enough to really _know_ it (For those born after the catastrophe, it was more something that just happened to be present in the collective consciousness of society, where new individuals being sozialized into it could retrieve it from) but that allowed it to persist as the kind of vague, ominous phantom that could be feared beyond the borders of reason – It was just necessary realism, possibly the bare minimum necessary to live in this day and age. If the catastrophe were to repeat, if people were to lose their houses and livelihoods, their orderly life and their significant others, they would hardly care whether he was a clueless kid at an age that adults commonly associated with a reputation of imminent trouble – especially if they were complete strangers who only knew him as 'That guy who fucked everything up'.

It wasn't even a matter of speculation, there were clear precedents:

Touji hadn't cared. Those ladies from the supermarket hadn't cared. Misato hadn't cared when he acted against her orders.

He had forgiven, but he was unable to forget, as much as he'd like to erase those thoughts and the seeds of doubt that came with them just to be able to interact with people who had now become important to him without that constant baggage in the back of his mind.

In his position as the only pillar holding up the earth ball, he couldn't do much to evade this constant certainly: If he were to lose, if he were to make the slightest mistake, perhaps without even realizing (after all, no one ever told him anything more than the bare minimum about just what he was supposed to be doing here) the survivors themselves would make sure that his head was severed from his shoulders.

"That is, if I'm even alive afterwards…"

Yes.

To be here thinking and feeling things, he would have to have survived… but how long was it since he last felt truly alive?

And all this pain, the endless, excruciating pain…

It must've been a close call.

But did he not already know how dangerous this could be?

Only recently, he'd had the pleasure of welcoming two laser whips into his innards.

And still, he had climbed right back into this thing… so everyone could take it for granted? So he could be beaten up for getting something wrong because he was too busy fighting for his life?

It just wasn't worth it.

Even a pathetic, meek good-for-nothing like him could tell that this equation was unlikely to produce positive values. Which led him right back to the question that had plagued him ever since his arrival:

"What am I even doing here?"

He didn't have any real reason to stay…

So why _had_ he stayed, why did he even _come_ here?

"I hoped that something might _change_, that something _good_ might happen to me for a change…" he heard the foolish, naïve little boy within him speaking, the side that wanted nothing more than for his father to give him a proud pat on the shoulder. "I didn't expect to be put through hell." His embittered, disappointed present-day-self added.

He looked at himself – heavy with despair, sitting next to a bag that looked much too large for him, just like he did ten years ago.

He was apparently in agreement with himself, then.

He had come here – and stayed – because he had been foolish and naïve, because he hadn't learnt a thing since his father sent him away.

There hadn't been any use in sticking around to begin with…

But just as he was ready to forsake everything, the gloom of this place was broken by a high and clear voice, sent by a wondrous, determined-looking girl that stood upright in the middle of this wagon, whereas he was barely bothering to sit in a way that wasn't notably slumped forward, she, whose radiance had been shining like a distant lighthouse in all the time he had spent wandering through this darkness, never quite vanishing from his thoughts, even now, when she most likely hated him.

Only much later would he come to understand that she'd already begun to give her form to what little shreds of hope there were left in his heart, hope that people were somehow capable of understanding each other at least a little, that Misato and the others were serious about him after all.

The hope that he might still be able to get closer to _her_, that one day he might be capable of acting without feeling ashamed of his deeds right afterwards, like that one time on the day he protected her, when he climbed into EVA 01 in her stead.

The hope that what he'd built himself here was _real_ and would be lost if he left now. That he might be capable of becoming a better human being.

"So you're going to run away again, like you've always run from unpleasant things?" she asked, leaving it to him to decide whether she hadn't been as accusing as she should have been. "Could you live with that?"

"Live?" Shinji brushed the complaining voices in the back of his head aside, and reacted with a bizarre mixture of petulance and resignation.

What point was there in any of this?

"Why should I want to live at all?!" he shouted into the room, revealing the real question behind most of his previous brooding.

"I don't particularly want to die right now, but when I really look at it, I'm not really important to anyone… Not to my father, and not even to Misato-san. They just need someone – _anyone! –_ to pilot Unit One." He admitted to himself with a progressively growing acerbic quality around his displeasure that he was barely bothering to suppress anymore.

If he hadn't left when he had the chance one week ago, then it had to be because he somehow retained some sort of desire to remain here, but he didn't know if that was… alright. It was true that he feared being extinguished by an angel, but he was just as afraid of vanishing simply because there was no reason for him to exist.

He knew for a fact that he was weak. And as much as he hated himself for that weakness, he just couldn't stand any of this any longer.

"That's why I need to get back into Unit One. If I don't do it, I don't have any right to stay here."

He couldn't stand the thought of everything continuing without him, with his meager contribution fading into insignificance as the future kept expanding and the length of the past stayed the same like any memory must – The thought of Misato, Touji, Kensuke, Ayanami and even his father simply… continuing as if he'd never come here to begin with, that all the suffering he'd already invested in this venture had been for naught, just another dangling end, an aborted endeavor lost in the sands. But neither did he have the strength to continue; His whole being, physically and mentally, folded under the pain like a house of cards.

He simply lacked the capacity to do this, he flat out didn't have it!

They were the ones who pretty much drafted him into this job to begin with.

_They_ were the ones asking the impossible of him, offering neither reward nor even compensation.

Personal motivations aside, expecting him to not just attempt, but succeed in this had never been a reasonable option to begin with.

And besides-

"What if I _do _go back, and then…"

Halfheartedly closing his eyes as he felt it welling up, Shinji surrendered to what he believed to be his destruction, as its golden waves enveloped him in its blinding radiance, and let himself be swept away by the baked, static-hot taste of hot light, until not even ashes remained.

* * *

><p>"EVA 01 has been recovered successfully!"<p>

"I'm going to the cages!" Misato announces hastily, stepping onto the one-person elevator Commander Ikari tended to use. "Take care of the rest!"

"We certainly will." Dr. Akagi assured before turning towards her subordinates, wasting little time in issuing further orders appropriate to the serious nature of the situation: "Keep a rescue team on standby. We need to cool down the LCL without delay!"

"The pilot's brainwaves are unstable. Pulse is very weak!" Hyuuga announced.

"Set all Life support systems to maximum. And defibrillate!"

"Aye!"

A sudden jerk went through the boy's lifeless body that was still floating in the superheated LCL like a mushy vegetable in a boiling cooking pot.

"Pulse confirmed!" Hyuuga reported, although Dr. Akagi knew better than to allow herself sighs of relief yet: "Remove the entry plug! Get rid of the LCL!"

Since the entire Evangelion was still steaming hot – including the half-molten main hatch – the whole control module had to be lifted from the entry plug by a mechanical arm.

Even after the LCL had been expulsed, columns of vapor kept rising from each and every of the structures – the rescue team had to show up in heat protection suits to take him away, bleeding profusely from his mouth and both nostrils, his hair and face both sticky with sweat and LCL as they pulled a breathing mask over the latter.

Misato could only watch from behind a thick layer of security glass and quietly whisper his name.

She of all people could impossibly have missed the faint, but recognizable stench of denatured protein that accompanied all other expected components as they finally wheeled him past her, still in his plug suit, but despite the primal, repulsing nature of these stirred memories, she followed until she was stopped by the imposing metal doors of the operating room, forcing her to remain behind while they were cut him out of his suit, covered him in an incomprehensible spaghetti salad of electrodes and stuck him in a black life support chamber that uncomfortably resembled a coffin.

The leader of the operations division could only think of one appropriate summary for the most recent battle effort: "Damnit."

But she was well aware that she didn't have any time to waste with cursing at her own powerlessness, the angel was still floating high above them and while Misato had yet to be informed of this, it had already begun to implement the next phase of its plan, which involved twisting its lowermost cover into a drill.

She had to think of a way to make sure that this disaster would never repeat itself.

She owed that to the boy who has just risked his life for all of them.

If not for anything else, then because she had gotten him into this.

She got him into this, and it very nearly killed him.

* * *

><p>"Kensuke?"<p>

Whatever the boy in question had been doing on the PC in front of him, he was rather quick to close the incriminating window.

"Dad? You're home already?"

"I'm just here for a brief stop. Today's probably going to be a long day, I might be late tonight… what are you doing on my Computer?"

"N-Nothing! I'm just installing a new game on my own, and it's taking pretty long, so I thought-"

"Never mind! In any case, one of your friends just phoned. He wants you to call him back."

"One of my friends…? _Which_ friend? Did he tell you his name? Was it Ikari?"

"It was the tall one with the big ears. Suzuhar-kuna, was it?"

"Touji?!"

Kensuke instantly jumped from his chair and stormed towards the nearest phone, right past his somewhat confounded father. He was half finished with typing in the number when he remembered that he wasn't alone in the room.

"Uh… Don't mind me, Dad. Just go get your snack and go back to work, alright?"

"O-Okay…"

* * *

><p>"FINALLY! JUST WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?!"<p>

"Calm down first." Kensuke asked, deciding to put a short safety distance between the phone and his ear. "My old man only just told me about your call, and I had to wait 'till he was out of my hair. What's the matter?"

"They let us out of the shelters, but a large chunk of the inner city is still sealed off, and there wasn't any victory announcement. The usual news blackout is still in place. You're the one who's always suspiciously well informed, so you tell me. What the heck is going on?"

"Well, _that's_ what I was just trying to research!"

"Then spill it already!"

"From the way it looks, they haven't lifted the restrictions because they haven't won the battle yet."

"What are you saying?!"

"As far as I could tell, the newest Angel is still in the restricted area, completely unharmed at that. The reports were pretty complicated, but apparently, that thing turned out to have some insanely powerful weapon much stronger than anything NERV expected it to have. The EVA got pretty much _toasted_._"_

"WHAT?!" Touji shouted right into the telephone, subjecting his friend's eardrum to another harsh test.

"What happened to Ikari? Don't tell me-"

"Oh, so now you're openly admitting that you're worried about him?"

"Of course I am! He's one of us now, isn't he? So spill already!"

Kensuke donned a small smile that Touji couldn't see, but still very much heard at his end of the wire, mostly in his friend's pleased tone of voice.

"He's okay."

Touji audibly exhaled.

"Seems like NERV suffered a pretty dramatic defeat and he only just made it out alive, but they seem pretty confident that they can get him patched up in time for round two."

"Somehow that's not as much of a comfort as it should be." Touji then admitted.

"You know what Ikari's like. He _won_ last time, and he was still so upset about it that he almost left the city. If it really was as bad as you say, then… I wouldn't be too surprised if…"

"…if he no longer feels like getting back into the EVA." Kensuke added gravely, completing the sentence.

"Hm…" Touji appeared to be thinking hard.

"We… we need to do something about this. Last time, I was too much of a coward to apologize right away, and because of that, he must have been feeling like he put himself through all of that suffering for _zilch_. And he's not the only one whom I could have spared some brooding… You were right. Sakura-chan was right, too. This time's gotta be different. This time, we have to show him that he's… not alone anymore…

Kensuke? Can you look up a few things for me?"

"Aye aye, Sir! What would you like me to look up?"

"Get me a list with the phone numbers of our whole class. Get me Ikari's phone number, too! Not his private one, I've already got it but I doubt he's taking his cell phone into battle. NERV's gotta have some sort of PR bureau, get me _their_ number.

And… find out when and where he'll be departing for the next battle."

"What for? I didn't think you'd be interested in seeing another battle up close after we nearly got squashed last time…"

"Of course I'm not, only you could be that suicidal! Doesn't mean we can't cheer him on a bit _before_ the actual battle starts. If possible, together with all of our classmates.

And maybe we can persuade Ayanami to show up in a cheerleader-costume, I'm sure our 'great superhero' would appreciate the fanservice..."

Kensuke laughed. "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to scratch that last part. She's being deployed as well this time. I can't wait to see her Evangelion! I wonder if it'll be just as cool as Ikari's. Ah, how I wish I could go with them…"

_"Kensuke…"_

* * *

><p>But before the boys would be able to find out any specifics about time and place of the next strike against the angel, those would need to be decided upon – much like the entire rest of the strategy, since the colossal failure of the usual 'neutralize AT-field and hit it until it dies' method had sent the staff of NERV headquarters right back to the drawing boards, which were currently being scribbled on in preparation for an emergency meeting.<p>

There was a specific accommodation prepared for such eventualities, which you might call a conference hall or a war room, where the staff had gathered around a large, luminescent table with integrated screens that Misato had already successfully covered in empty coffee cans of her favorite brand. (Prodüct Placemènt)

Besides Misato, whose preparations involved an applied hair tie in addition to the caffeine, perhaps to convince herself that the gloves were off now without discarding any actual gloves, the gathering included Dr. Akagi and her assistant Ibuki, furthermore Hyuuga, Aoba, Mitsurugi senior and Rei, who was sitting in a corner a dark corner of the room between the light cones of the various screens, still holding the Commander's glasses.

She appeared to be listening carefully, but neither spoke nor moved from her spot, where she might as well have been overlooked if it wasn't for her unusual hair color and her clothing. She had no changed out of her plug suit so that she might be ready for further orders at any time, and the white enveloping her body gave her the semblance of a ghostly apparition inside the uncertain dark.

A closer look, however, might have revealed the subtlest hints of worry on her features.

"Okay, okay…" Misato opened the meeting, playing with the pen in her hand to make the looming conclusion go away. "Let's have a look at all that Data we collected."

"Judging from the results of our various experiments, we've concluded that the angel attacks and destroys every perceived threat within a defined perimeter with its particle beam…" Mitsurugi summarized.

"So we can basically forget about getting near enough for close-quarters combat…" Misato concluded, far from pleased with her own admission. "What about its AT-field?"

"It's continually active, and judging by the spatial phase shift, it will be very hard to neutralize and… almost impossible to break through." Ibuki explained.

"Bombs and induction cannons should be useless." Hyuuga added.

"So both attack and defense are nearly perfect. That thing's practically a floating fortress… You said no bombs?"

"Well, according to the Magi, breaking through the AT-field would require an N² mine of such explosive force that headquarters would inevitably be destroyed along with it…"

"Magi II in Matsushiro… independently arrived at the same conclusion." Dr. Akagi completed. "Nonetheless, the UN forces are still petitioning for us to give that option sufficient consideration."

"That's easy for them to say if they're not the target… and if this place falls, it's all over either way." Misato, who had been leaning back in her chair until now reverted to an upright position.

"What about that bothersome probe?"

"It has a diameter of about 17,5 meters and since it's deployment, the enemy has steadily been drilling straight towards the geofront, straight through two layers of armored plating." Mitsurugi reported. "It's currently having its way with the third."

"So the enemy has come to attack us directly this time…" Misato concluded. This was getting better by the second.

"If our simulations are correct and the angel maintains its present velocity…" Aoba continued "…we can assume that the angel will have broken through all 22 layers of armor and breached the geofront by tomorrow, zero hours, six minutes and 56 seconds…"

"That means we have less than ten hours…" Misato repeated, accompanied by a conspicuous twitch in the wings of her nose.

They were stuck between Scylla and Charybdis.

"What's the status of Unit One?"

"Still damaged from the battle and not fully operational yet. The complete chest plate and parts of the tertiary armor are hopelessly molten." The fake blonde related. "We are extremely lucky that at least the central control unit remained intact."

"Three seconds longer, and the Eva would have been out of commission." Ibuki elaborated. "There's no way we can replace all these components in less than three hours."

"I see…" Misato replied, anything but pleased. "And Unit Zero?"

"…isn't fully calibrated and hence not fully operational either." Ibuki proceeded to explain. "…the activation test was successful, but we still have that feedback problem… Actual combat should still be…"

"…out of question." Misato completed, taking the words right out of her colleague's mouth. "As for the pilot of unit one… how badly is he injured?"

"Physically? Not at all. His nerve pulses are still 0.8 index points higher than normal, but that's still in the tolerable range."

"We now have nine hours and 55 minutes until the estimated time of breach." Hyuuga reminded them, dispelling any however theoretical improvement in Misato's mood that might have been brought on by the news that the worst had been barely avoided.

"…the outlook isn't particularly rosy, is it?"

"You could very much say that our hands are tied." The leader of the technical division agreed.

"So, should we wave the white flags?" Hyuuga suggested, half serious.

"Not a bad idea…" Misato answered with a devious grin, apparently concocting some sort of idea. "…but there's just one little thing I'd like to try first…"

* * *

><p>"You want to destroy the angel with a long-distance sniper attack?"<p>

"Yes. Given the current situation, we have no choice but to break through the AT-field with a high-energy weapon, since we have no way of neutralizing it."

The Commander, on the other hand, was just interested in one thing: "What do the Magi say?"

"According to the vote of our three magi-supercomputers, the plan is feasible, that is, conditionally feasible, with a probability of 8,7%."

"It is the most promising plan we currently have. Do it."

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

><p>"That plan of yours is complete lunacy!"<p>

"Lunacy? The operation is completely feasible. If you have a better plan that can be implemented in less than nine hours, go ahead and tell me. I'm all ears."

Dr. Akagi didn't seem particularly convinced.

"Are you sure about this?"

* * *

><p>"Our positron rifles aren't designed to withstand such massive energy densities. Even with our best weapons, we could hardly even scratch that AT-field. What do you intend to do about this?"<p>

"Isn't it obvious? If ours is insufficient, we'll just have to borrow one that can handle more power!"

"…borrow? You don't mean-"

"Yes, exactly." Misato turned to face her colleague with a confident grin.

"You have read that secret dossier about that new military prototype as well, haven't you?"

* * *

><p>"In accordance with my special authorizations as member of NERV, I hereby confiscate this positron canon for the purpose of national defense!" Misato declared, apparently right in her element as she held a stack of documents into the faces of a rather displeased-looking general and his flock of nonplussed researchers.<p>

The elation on their part was conceivably sparse.

"B-but…"

"We will do our best to return it in mint condition. Thank you for your cooperation." Misato explained with poise, swiftly turning around to give Rei the signal that she could finally take the weapon.

The military's henchmen were appropriately flabbergasted when their hangar's entire roof was pushed aside by a one-eyed giant painted with bright, orange varnish.

"Try to be careful with it." Misato casually advised. "This is delicate equipment."

"But Captain… According to our calculations, we're still going to need at least 180 kilowatts to break through that AT-field…" Hyuuga, who had come along as well cautiously inquired. "Just where are we going to get that much energy?"

Unlikely as it seemed, Misato had already devised an answer for this question. Her confident smirk didn't leave her face for a second: "From everywhere!" she began, allowing herself a dramatic pause before elaborating on her initial laconic proclamation: "From all over our country!"

* * *

><p><em>"We apologize for this interruption. This is a crisis-related broadcast. From 11:30 pm today through early morning tomorrow, a large scale blackout is planned all over japan. Thank you for your cooperation."<em>

The same message appeared simultaneously on millions of televisions, advertisement screens and other electronic mass media; The announcement echoed in all streets, helicopters carried the news across the entire country to all of its citizens – this included Touji and Kensuke, who had since gathered together for a visit to the local McDonalds followed by a course of video games to fight off the worry and agitation and now found themselves staring at the screen.

"Do you think that's somehow related to… you know…" Touji began to ask once the announcement had begun repeating itself.

"Of… course!" Kensuke replied, initially uncertain, but increasingly convinced by the time he had formed the second word. "I'm sure Misato-san must have come up with some cool plan."

"Ah, Misato-san! It's rare to see such a hot babe having brains in addition to hotness these days!"

"It's a real pity that we can't witness the fruits of her work up close… Say, Touji, can't we-"

"Forget it! Being nearly squashed _once_ is more than enough for me. Besides, your exploits already cost me one month's worth of pocket money. My old man was _furious_…"

"Still. We _do_ have a plan to implement before they stuff us all back into the shelters, don't we?"

"I guess you're right about that one. Let's go."

* * *

><p>Hikari, who had been researching something school-related on her laptop, also found herself turning towards the TV apparatus she hadn't been paying all too much attention to. From the looks of it, a new battle was approaching… she could only hope that nothing would go wrong this time… This time, she'd have to keep a particularly close eye on those two stooges, lest they incur any broken bones.<p>

* * *

><p>For Mitsurugi Nagato, the announcement arrived while he was busying himself with some sudokus, having only just finished his homework.<p>

At this point, he already knew that a new battle would be taking place – his father had phoned earlier and explained that he probably wouldn't come home before the first signs of daybreak.

Which probably meant that the two Children would be facing the enemy in the heart of the night. The mere concept still felt surreal to him, that normal kids who had been frequenting the same real, tangible classrooms as him would now be forced to stand and fight in the place of soldiers.

It was just too absurd.

That shy boy who had spoken to him the day before…

Nagato had a hard time imagining him as a warrior.

His ostensible pair of friends had only just called – two rather loud, energetic fellows whose room-filling presence Nagato himself found somewhat intimidating or at least mildly uncomfortable. They looked exactly like the chaotic sort of people capable of coming up with just any crazy, unprecedented idea with little provocation, and he didn't think he could deal with that. He distantly wondered how exactly these two had managed to befriend a serious, tentative figure like Ikari, but in any case, they certainly _did_ seem to be his supporters – they had suggested that the whole class assemble on the school roof to cheer the pilots on, which included not only Ikari, but also that strange girl. Nagato himself had, of course, declined; They were supposed to be in the shelters by then. Things needed to have their order, after all, this city was supposed to be part of a war effort.

And anyways, if he showed up there after declining before, he would just attract strange looks.

It was out of question.

But despite the seemingly obvious situation, Nagato found himself wondering if made the right decision, as certain as he was that any teacher or public worker was sure to tell him "yes".

Sure, he hardly knew anything of that boy, and even less about the girl, but at least the former seemed to have attempted to be nice to him… or at least, that's what he thought.

And, as his father had explained to him often enough, both these children would be defending the whole world tonight.

Fourteen-year-olds as saviors of the world.

He'd been struggling to reconcile that idea with the observable reality around him ever since his father first introduced him to the idea.

And it had to be _these_ particular fourteen year olds, of all possible choices.

Nagato was too well educated to actually comment on it in public, but what sort of parents actually allowed their daughter to completely bleach her hair at this age, much less dye it a bright sky blue of all things.

The girl herself was strange, too.

Nagato guessed that it was none of his business either way.

Sighing, Nagato put his Sudokus aside and rose from his dark wooden desk, proceeding to tug on the dark, heavy curtains of his room ever so slightly until he could peer outside.

No matter how often he blinked or subtly shook his head, it was still out there, glistening in the setting sun, slowly, but steadily turning on its axis.

An enormous, blue _thing_, a foreign body of glistening, blank faces in floating geometric shapes in a world made of intricately textured reliefs and details, of things yielding to gravity.

Through a whim of coincidence, the Mitsurugi residence happened to be relatively close to the restricted area. Already incredulous when he heard such unreal accounts from the mouths of his classmates, Nagato had never seen the matters of his father's work outside of seemingly controlled environments, labs, at most.

He could barely accept that this ludicrous thing was really physically there.

* * *

><p>"What about our defenses?" Misato asked through the intercom.<p>

"In this short time, we couldn't improvise anything more than a simple shield."

"That is… a shield?" Ibuki asked, uncertain.

Dr. Akagi nodded. "It's a heat shield from the underside of a dismantled space shuttle. It may look bulky and impractically shaped, but it's coated in a special electromagnetic isolator.

It should be able to withstand the particle beam for at least 17 seconds. Section 2 guarantees that… is that right?"

Asahina, dressed in black as always, her costume looking somewhat out of place amongst the futuristic layout of the armory hand, was leaning on a handrail without facing the other women.

"By optimistic estimates, it might even last for twenty."

"Very well." Misato concluded. "How is the assembly of the weapon coming along?"

"We're 3,2% behind schedule." A young female Technician by the name of Agano responded. "But we'll most definitely be finished by 23:10!"

"That's good to hear."

"Perhaps." Dr. Akagi chimed in. "But you're still fully dependant on a completely untested weapon and pumping unprecedented amounts of energy into it. There isn't even proper guidance software for that thing, so we're going to need an Evangelion to fire it…

I'm not surprised that the UN-Forces are participating in this, but just how in the world did you convince the home affairs ministry and the Japanese self-defense forces to go along with this madness?"

"A few of them… still owed me the occasional favor."

"I guess drastic situations call for drastic measures..."

"Speaking of which, did you already come up with a good firing location?"

At the touch of a button, Hyuuga summoned the image of a map to one of the screens surrounding them.

"There is only one place that has both the rightdistance to the target and opportune geographic features as well as the necessary infrastructure for the energy supply."

Misato appeared pleased with the image.

"Of course! I should have thought of that myself!

We're firing from the peak of Futagoyama mountain!

How's unit one?"

"It's currently being equipped with universal G-type sniping equipment for nonstandard weaponry! It will be ready to deploy in two more hours."

"Very well. The operation will begin tomorrow at zero hours. From now on, it is codenamed 'Operation Yashima'!" Misato declared. "All that's left now is the pilot!"

"All that's left? You say that like it's some sort of minor afterthought." Dr. Akagi commented. "What are you going to do if he refuses to do it?"

Misato narrowed her eyes.

She would love to trust in this boy who was so much like her, but realistically speaking, the good Doctor's concern was all but misplaced. She had done her part, organized the equipment, crafted the plan… while Akagi and the other technicians had doubtlessly been working with their wondrous little gadgets to make firing this gun as easy as possible; All the little gears were assembling, waiting for their centerpiece to take his painstakingly minimized, but still uniquely crucial role as the heart of the clockworks.

But would that suffice to make Shinji understand what Misato had been trying to get into his head for almost two months now?

Would it be enough to show him that he would not be facing this battle on his own?

* * *

><p>Incidentally, that was the very same question Suzuhara Touji was asking himself as he hung up the bright green public phone after having finished his call.<p>

All around him, announcements could be heard, mixed with the steps of a thousand people on their ways to their safe and sturdy shelters.

Hikari, who had been waiting for him to finish to make sure that he (and Kensuke) would be coming with the rest of their class, was standing a bit closer to the waiting group, and – this was the crucial part – starting to get visibly impatient.

"Okay then… let's go." Touji concluded with certain traces of tension in his voice, mostly addressing his nearby friend, who replied with a simple, affirmative sound.

The two were already turning to leave the phones behind when they heard a voice calling from within the nearby crowd of uniformed students: "…Wait a bit!"

It was the new student, this Mitsurugi guy, easily recognizable from the bandage around his head. For a moment, the two suspected a fleeting impression of hesitant reluctance on his features – but only for a moment.

"Excuse me! Excuse me for only saying this now, it wasn't my intention to cause further delays…" he apologized, relatively formal given the reason for this conversation: "Could I please… as well…?"

Touji and Kensuke blinked in Mitsurugi's general direction, somewhat surprised.

So far, he had given off the impression of being something of a swotter or at least some disinterested loner, at very least, he hadn't shown interested in their little 'excursion' to the launch pads – which made it surprising to see him show interest in or worry about Shinji, even when taking into account the minuscule amount of time they had remotely known each other.

As a consequence, Hikari was the first to compose an answer: "It's all right, Mitsurugi-kun, just go ahead. But please hurry, we don't have all day."

* * *

><p>"The pilot of unit one worries me." Fuyutsuki admitted amidst his thoughts, observing the landscape of the geofront beyond the large panorama windows of the commander's office.<p>

By contrast, his superior sat at the core of the darkness, in his unzipped, neglected uniform, hidden away behind his tinted glassed, his back turned to the light of a world in which he'd lost all interest a long,long time ago.

"The Dummy Plug is still in development. Until it is available, we have no choice but to rely on the current pilot."

"And what if he refuses? Brainwashing?"

It didn't occur to Ikari to ask what kind of man his subordinate thought him to be.

He knew very well what everyone inside these walls thought of him, and he knew that there was no point in trying to change it.

So he saved his breath, evaded a direct answer and instead said something that should placate his subordinate's doubts.

"…if things don't work out, we still have Rei."

"…Rei? You want Rei to pilot Unit One _now_?" Notably alarmed, Fuyutsuki incredulously turned in his superior's direction. "That's far too dangerous."

"…to defeat the remaining angels… we need to utilize all resources available to us."

Fuyutsuki turned back to the glass wall, examining the horizon without real relief.

"There is so much at stake…"

Ikari abstained from further words.

He found them unnecessary.

Of course he was aware of all risks and variables that had been part of their endeavor to begin with – But a large portion of all these events had already been set in stone since time immemorial.

Besides, as far as the Third Child was concerned, he had already… taken certain measures.

* * *

><p>The blue haired girl sat on her stool like a statue on its pedestal, her legs closely together, her school bag arranged on her tighs, her hands placed left and right of the commander's discarded spectacle case.<p>

Word- and motionless, with skin like white marble, she sat there, her unwavering red eyes transfixed on the 'occupied' sign of the operating room, until the light behind it faded.

* * *

><p>(1) It was very important to me to portray the whole incident with Ramiel's laser beam as religious levels of horrible. It certainly was for Shinji; If I can't make the audience feel his fear, I want them in awe. I want the emotional progression to what follows next to be clear, if that's not beyond my abilities. You see, they have this scary term 'clinicaly dead' for when your heart stops and has to be restarted…<p>

(2) I think there was a bit of a theme of the angels being vaguely parallel to the people who fight them; Maybe there was, maybe there wasn't, if there was, I didn't want to ruin it, but a lot of this is also influenced by my own observations/ideas/imagination of/on what Ramiel's perspective could be like. There won't always be the time/story weight to give each and any Angel "personality", but I wanted to do a bit of that here or there, at least enough to set precedents. They're supposed to be not that much unlike humans, after all. It was also important to me to get the idea/concept of "promised land" in there, with all its edges, warts and implications.

(3) You didn't pay that much mind to Shinji's "…if I lose, everyone will hate me" in 1.11, didn't you? "He's just saying that because he's got issues…" Looks a lot harsher in hindsight, doesn't it? Becoming universally loathed IS a real concern when your actions may affect, let one _ruin_ tons of people you don't personally know. You see it with celebrities and politicians all the time, but sadly, a competent asshole gets more respect than an incompetent average joe in our world – it's just how it works. Something Q generally did was put the threat back in a lot of things from the original – for example, everyone was always so freaked out about Unit One going berserk, when it ultimately ended up working in their favor/getting rid of the angel most of the time. Well, it's a copy of something that does impacts, and Ritsuko knows it. That's why… I actually retroactively inserted a few lines into this chapter after Q to give that statement its proper underlining. I hardly had the narrative comment on it at all when I first wrote this/dwelt on other, more obvious lines. I feel kind of stupid for not recognizing this earlier. Sorry Shinji, seems like I'm still far from being worthy of calling myself one of your number one fangirls… I didn't mean to make Shinji too world-savy with that paragraph, he sure isn't, but I figured it would be a… "distant general knowledge thing". I'd imagine the post-impact world after the chaos and the wars, in regards to how people have had to accept the reality of human ugliness, as a more extreme version of modern-day Germany – central Europe's one of the most peaceful places on the earth nowadays, few actually know war and it only ever happens far away, few have 'catastrophe experience', but you can't walk past any historic building without noticing a place that says it's only a replica of the actual historic building that had a bomb fall on it some time ago. That sort of… ubiquity.

(4) Let's face it. Misato's favorite part about working in a secret organization working to preserve life on earth is probably being allowed to take other people's stuff. XD

(5) In the next chapter, you shall witness what it without doubt the blazing, radiant climax of the first act. Observe the birth of a hero and the forging of a bond that will decide the fate of the world when everything piques in an epic confrontation at the summit of the Futagoyama. Also, Shinji might finally get his much needed… well, a hug is perhaps too much to ask at this point, but if he succeeds in kicking plenty of angel butt, he might just earn himself a hand to hold… Does an octahedron even have a butt to be kicked in? That, and more, awaits you in chapter 14: [You are (not) alone], or: [In front of the person I admire] Angels of Doom are com-ming! *hums melody*


	15. 14: In front of the person I admire

**14:[You are (not) alone] ** or:

**[In front of the person I admire]**

* * *

><p><em>I've been<em>

_watching your world from afar_

_I've been_

_trying to be where you are_

_And I've been_

_secretly falling apart_

_Unseen _

_To me_

_You're strange and you're beautiful_

_And you'd be_

_So perfect with me but you just_

_Can't see_

_You turn every head but you don't_

_see me_

_I'll put a spell on you_

_You'll fall asleep_

_'Cause I put a spell on you_

_And when I wake you_

_I'll be the first thing you see_

_And you'll realize that you love me_

_-Aqualung, 'Strange and beautiful'_

* * *

><p>Shinji vaguely recalled having opened his eyes in a dark place, only to be welcomed back to the world of the living by a dazzling, blinding light.<p>

He could still feel the light dancing, blooming under his skin, bright as midday sun, prickling and irritating like a nest of ants, fluctuating in the manner of undulating water.

The searing hell fire's tingling afterglow still lingered on every corner of his outline, almost like a caress, enveloping every minuscule skin fold, every single hair, and remained his only companion in this precarious state between being and nothingness, almost a reassuring whisper gently assuring that he had yet to cross the line to the latter, not if he could still feel pain, not when every neuron in his body was still leaking a disruptive excess of signals that made coherent perception impossible even as they dissipated, when every pathways was till ringing with delayed refractions of freshly-formed memories that had burned themselves as deeply into his flesh as his soul; They surrounded him like ornaments of molten metal, heat so divine, pain so intense that it stopped being recognizable as such – towards the end, all he could perceive was a radiant, all consuming light that had taken all senses from him, gradually reduced his entire being to nothingness, up until the point he lost consciousness – he didn't have any memory of the exact moment this happened, for there was little capacity for clear thought left in him at that time, mostly preoccupied with formulating the desperate wish to finally be destroyed for good, for the molecules that constituted him to be stripped to their carbon skeletons, so that the endless, ceaseless conga line of suffering that tied the last fourteen years together could finally cease – in the end, even that was extinguished, and he felt like he had become a star, or perhaps a divine apparition, a burning bush, roasting, but not charring, screaming for a man whose ears had been deaf to his voice to begin with, falling into pieces to revive from the ashes like a phoenix, for the sole purpose of being immolated all over again, yet another burnt offering on that uncaring man's bio-mechanical altar.

Another? For an instant, he was able to hang on to a vague, elusive sense that there was another person he should be thinking of, but he couldn't anchor her in any sort of internal order that would mark her as part of reality; He had long since lost any sense of time or the ability to draw any clear answers from the overloaded circuits that were supposed to hold his memories – Towards the end, he was no longer certain that he hadn't died at some undefined point in time, and that all of this wasn't hell.

Thus, he had become alike to a star in a wholly different way, for the very creators that ignited them unspeakable time ago had placed them so far apart that even light needed centuries, or even eons to connect them, surrounded in all directions by an incomprehensible vastness of empty space – that was exactly how Shinji had felt, as if he were trapped inside the molten core of the earth, separated from any other living being by layers upon layers of rock and stone, caught inside his tiny metallic capsule.

All alone.

He had screamed and screamed, begged and begged, but no one had answered his pleas...

No one had as much as moved a finger to release him from his agony...

Just what did these people think they were asking of him?

Did they really expect him to keep defeating the never ending deliveries of such terrifying monsters, all by himself?

Even Shinji himself was painfully aware that he was just a normal kid... no, not even that!

He was an useless failure if there ever was one!

How was he of all people supposed to handle the truly herculean task they were imposing on him?

He... was afraid. His pounding heart could burst from the mere thought that it might not be long before he would have to endure more of this torment...

He...

He was still alive.

Although the light of divine punishment was still burning in his retinas, he _had_ to be alive to perceive the stinging and burning that it caused at the back of his rapidly moving eyeballs, to be aware of the clammy layer of sweat that clung to every part of his body, to feel the wild beating of his heart as it struggled to normalize its rhythm while adjusting to produce the level of pressure needed to sustain a conscious state.

Little by little, the persistent afterimages of the battle began to be first overlaid, then displaced by new sensory input, until his eyes adapted to the overload of brightness to the point that they were ultimately able to construct an image coherent enough to stir his brain from its stupor, allowing him to realize that he wasn't crossing paths with that particular lamp for the first time.

"It's that ceiling again..." he mumbled, still somewhat disconnected from his surroundings. The lighting in NERV's sickbay was every bit as needlessly bright as it had been after his last near-death experience, rendering all colors even more faded and sallow than his condition would have anyway.

"...that's what I get from piloting EVA..."

But as grotesque and absurd as Shinji found the mere possibility that his body may be adapting to the surreal tribulations of EVA piloting, let alone doing so _successfully _after the merciless excruciation it had just been put through, he couldn't help but notice that the battle's afterglow and the stupor that came with it dissipated much, much faster than it did on his first visit to this establishment, and soon, he was sufficiently awake to notice yet another significant difference: This time, he wasn't the only person in the large, empty hospital room.

In fact, the first thing he saw when he finally tore his gaze from the lamp, lured by the sound of a turning page, shaking off the last dust clouds of daze as his nerves coordinated the first directed movement after the ordeal they had been put through was a familiar face with a pair of very intent red eyes observing as he propped himself up with his elbow.

"...Ayanami?"

Shinji wondered what in the world she was doing here, and how he could possibly end up keeping watch at his side, perseveringly waiting for his awakening – but a single look downwards was enough to dispel all doubt that she had done just that: She had arranged herself on a small stool next to his bed, and her delicate hands held a small book that she must have been reading until just now.

"Have-... Have you been here all along?"

Shinji didn't understand. Had he not spent the last day not wasting a single opportunity to earn her antipathy, as unintentional as it may have been?

Instead of bothering to ask his essentially superfluous question, she closed her book and instead produced a little red notebook from some unspecified pocket somewhere in her uniform dress and began to read from it, her eyes always following after the words on the paper.

"I am here to introduce you to the schedule of Operation Yashima." she reported in a businesslike fashion. "Today at 19:30 hours, the pilots Ikari and Ayanami are to arrive at Terminal number two. At 20:00 hours, preparations for the departure and transport of both units to the site of operations. Departure at 20:05 hours. At 20:30 hours, arrival at the provisional base at the peak of the Futagoyama. There, the pilots will be awaiting further instructions until the operation officially begins at 00:00 hours."

At first, Shinji just listened in simple bewilderment while she recited the plan, but eventually, he ended up averting his eyes.

From the looks of it, they had already come up with a new plan to try out, everything was already decided and neatly packaged, they totally expected him to go along with whatever they had cooked up like nothing ever happened, and didn't seem to have spared a thought to the idea that he might protest, because who cares if he _nearly died_ the last time!

But he should have known to expect that...

Meanwhile, Rei had pocketed her little notebook and leaned forward to retrieve something from the small trolley next to her seat and throw it on his bed.

Shinji sat up to get a better look at the object – it was a brand new plug suit in different shades of blue, neatly packaged in an envelope transparent plastic with the word "Nerv" printed on it. It was basically identical to his old one – which must have been destroyed when he had been admitted to this place, his half-dead state presumably having necessitated some sort of crude, hurried removal.

He knew that he was supposed to be grateful to her right now, but the truth was that he really didn't feel like seeing this type of clothing right now, and he didn't think he felt like wearing it, either...

"Please be careful not to arrive like this."

At first, Shinji failed to realize what Rei's remark might be supposed to signify and gave her a reaching, confused look – until it came to his notice that he was stark naked under his blanket, the corollary being that he had been presenting Rei with the full frontal view since he just sat up.

This probably meant they were even now.

Nonetheless, the fourteen-year-old boy frantically grabbed his blanket and did his best to get as much fabric between Rei and the X-rated areas of his body as he could possibly manage.

Before long, he had pulled his legs close and raised a mountain of cloth around them, on which he then rested his arms to hide his face between it all.

"I'm sorry...!"

Rei kept looking in his direction, but didn't display any further reaction.

Shinji couldn't say whether this was a good or bad thing.

Warily, he began to raise his head again and glance past his arm, although he still didn't dare look her in the eyes.

He was seriously beginning to consider that he might have some sort of twisted talent for unwittingly stumbling into embarrassing situations, especially if the people involved were females he would like to peacefully coexist with...

The Third Child sighed.

"I've been saying that a lot lately..."

Causing a short noise, Rei straightened herself up and swiftly pushed the trolley next to her into Shinji's direction.

"Your meal."

There was, indeed, a tray with something vaguely resembling food on it to be found there, but the various piles of goop might as well have been plastic and did little to rouse Shinji's appetite – not that there was much that could have done that so soon after he nearly got himself barbecued.

He soon averted his eyes.

"I'm not hungry."

Rei wheeled the trolley back to its original position, but left it in the room.

"We will depart in sixty minutes." Rei added, already in the processes of leaving.

Shinji didn't _want_ her to leave.

He didn't want to be alone with those dreadful thoughts and memories, or everyone's apparent certainty that he was going to do something for which he lacked both the will and capacity necessary.

Even Rei seemed to assume that he fully intended to continue this.

As for Shinji, he was afraid. His entire soul was metaphysically bursting with such horrible dread... But there was no way he could talk about this with Misato or the others. None of them would take his fear seriously, or lend him an open ear, with little to no regard for the boundless horror that was silently ripping him apart from the inside.

And why should they? They were all very busy with impossibly important things, and Shinji was supposed to be a boy after all. They were all expecting him to "stop whining" and prove his valor, but... Shinji simply _wasn't_ a brave person...

In the end, none of that mattered, no one wanted to hear any of this. He didn't have to bother talking to them to know what they would say, their own interests predetermined the scope of what he could expect them to say to him from the start – They would obviously urge him to pilot the Evangelion if he wanted to stay here, and perhaps even mark themselves with some hollow gesture to "cheer him up", when he knew very well that their faith in him amounted to absolutely zilch – he was the unwanted, troublesome child, the unreliable, untrustworthy tool they wished they could replace with a piece of metal if only they had a better grasp on their own fearsome technology... All they wanted, or even _needed_ was someone who would climb into that steel abomination and fight for them, regardless of what might happen to _him – _It all didn't take long to become some sort of crazy game: _L_et's just see how badly these monsters would have to break him before NERV's scientist couldn't patch him back together anymore, like he was Humpty Dumpty or something.

In his desperation, he clung to the only person whose reply he couldn't fully anticipate, whose hard demands he couldn't already picture in full color and full motion – Ayanami.

"Do I really... have to get back into this thing?" he asked, although he new the answer very well.

"Yes." she answered without cushioning or artifice, cutting his last thread of hope with a single, simple word. He should have learned to expect this by now.

It wasn't like she was responsible for deciding any of this, and either way, why in the world would she have any kind words to spare for him after he'd thoroughly blown any and all chances he might have had with her? Still, he was unable to keep those words bottled up any longer.

He just wanted to be _heard_ for once.

His father hadn't heard him, hadn't _wanted _to hear him when he had screamed for him inside the boiling LCL – And in some simple, childlike corner of his mind, making his father's prized confidante listen instead registered as the next best thing.

The ironic thing was, her answers were probably the ones he dreaded the least.

"But I don't... want to..." Shinji admitted, almost accusing.

"Maybe _you_ don't mind because you never came within an inch of your life, but I just can't do this anymore... I don't want to experience any more of these terrible things..." As he went on, his words didn't take long to lose all of their firmness and stopped themselves within an inch of breaking out into sobs.

He was peripherally aware that directing such a display at a girl should feel him with shame, but Ayanami was... different.

At the time, he distantly reasoned that he had already taken notice of the simple matter of course that she was unlikely to react like a normal girl, which, as much as he could have slapped himself for that thought, was very opportune circumstance right now, for he couldn't have held back the flood of pent-up, undignified squalor if he'd wanted to, and even this wanting would have been something he could not muster right now.

"It was so dreadful... I'm so scared... but I can't run away, either..."

"You're afraid of EVA? Alright. Then stay and rest."

Shinji was shocked. No lectures? No expectations? She was letting him off the hook... just like that?

"...but... then..."

"I will pilot Unit One in your place." she explained, tonelessly.

The Third Child couldn't help but gawk at her. "It can be reprogrammed at any time. Dr. Akagi has already completed the preparations."

In certain ways, Shinji felt like the ground had been pulled from beneath his feet.

He had expected to be pressured into piloting by any means available, that everyone involved would subject him to their carefully assorted repertoire of empty phrases ans guilt trips, getting all the more adamant the most he refused, but now, he found himself charging past an open door only to tumble into the abyss behind it – with nothing to oppose, nothing to hold on to, he was falling through thin air – Al he could do was decide, and if he didn't, everything would just continue without him, as if he'd never been here...

But that was besides the point.

To his own honest astonishment, the first impulse to stir up in response to this potential release from the ties that supposedly kept him enchained here was neither relief nor indignation or even fear:

Not _everyone_ was expecting him to subject himself to these horrible things.

This girl, this... almost complete stranger... after he'd spent the better part of the day embarrassing himself in her generl surroundings, she was unflinchingly willing to do what he dared not.

She was going to do battle with the fiend that had nearly claimed his life and would have little trouble doing the same to her, all by herself...

It was just like that other time, when they first met – She knew very well what awaited her, and just accepted it without complaint. Shinji knew all too well that if it the roles were reversed, he would have broken down pleading and begging her not to let him be thrown before that abomination all by himself.

He couldn't stand this, this whole situation – it was like being pulled into a dozen different directions without being able to budge an inch.

He couldn't stand the idea of climbing back into the EVA, he couldn't bear the thought of being responsible if Rei didn't return from the battlefield, but the worst was being stuck with the choice, and knowing that a better person would see none.

This would be so much easier if it was anyone else. Everyone else was asking things of him, demanded that he pay in blood if he wanted them to let him stay here, if he wanted their kindness, gallons upon gallons, be it the blood of the angels, his own, and even that of innocents like Touji's sister, it was all good currency to them.

Everyone else would be dragging, _chasing_ him all the way to the cages, but not Rei.

Not Rei... Of all the people he had personally interacted with so far, she had the _least_ reasons to show him any compassion – Since their first proper conversations, he had not wasted a single opportunity to draw her ire, while he couldn't fault her for anything, and even if he could, even if she _were_ trying to get him to pilot along with anyone else, he would have lost any right to accuse her the moment he had considered leaving her to the angel.

And still, she, who had more reason than anyone else, was the sole person who didn't ask _anything _of him, the one who didn't judge him for a _moment_, the one who told him to stay and recover, the onewho had kept watch at his side and stayed with him...

He could see for himself how unfair that was, how ungrateful it would be of him if he didn't accompany her into battle after this... this awareness was always the worst. He knew, he _knew_ and he could hate himself forever for his fear, this filthy primordial self-preservation instinct that would always remain much stronger than the sum of his heart and rational mind squared.

What a disgusting coward he was – even now, in the moment of truth and decision, he still saw himself reaching, attempting to cling to the next best person... but his only company in this painted white prison was turning to leave.

"I need to leave. Dr. Akagi and Captain Katsuragi are waiting for me." Rei explained without turning back another time as she walked towards her guillotine, as every clacking of her soles on the floor brought her closer to the particle beam that would cook her alive.

"AYANAMI!" he called, in the motions of a surprisingly full-blown stirring, of half-baked regrets, but all her got was a last look at her backside of a body that had already stepped into the hallway and a last, quiet "Farewell." before the automatic door cut her off from his view.

For an instant, the horrible feeling that he would never see him again brushed over him like the shiver of a passing train and that cold seemed to have frozen him in place, remaining as he was like a statue, until he finally lowered his head dejectedly and curled into a ball, drawing his legs even closer.

He couldn't do it.

There was just no way.

There was no way in hell he could just leave Ayanami to her fate.

He should leave, he should get up and go after Rei, to where Misato and the others were waiting for him.

He mustn't run away.

He should already have realized just how useless that would be, and he should have done so three years ago – there had been ample time, time in which he had found himself brooding over the same questions again and again... and it was clear that he would continue to do so indefinitely if he didn't budge now.

Moving with jerky urgency, trying to ride this wave of intensity as far as it would carry him, Shinji straightened himself up and looked around in the hope that someone might have thought of leaving him some fresh clothes to wear.

He didn't really feel like marching out of here in a makeshift toga improvised from the bedsheets – If worst came to worst, there was always the plug suit Ayanami had left him, but...

This thought was cut off when he noticed one of his school uniforms haphazardly folded on one of the lower racks of the tray Ayanami had used to deliver his unwelcome meal, but the truth was that part of him did not want to accept this resolution to get back into the violet titan as part of his personal reality, and feeling the plug suit's material tightly pressed to every corner of his skin would make that impossible.

In the end, the sense of obligation he felt towards Ayanami and the others did nothing to alleviate the reality of his endless dread...

* * *

><p>"<em>STOP RIGHT THERE! <em>Just where do you think you're _going_?"

With Kensuke's nigh uncanny knowledge about the workings of such mechanisms and a bit of applied muscular strength courtesy of Touji, the gate leading to the emergency shelter did little to stop the boys, but whimsical as fate could be, their luck left them as soon as they reached the rose golden evening sky behind the heavy steel doors, their doom spelling itself in the shape of the class representative's voice coming from behind them, which is where the girl herself was standing, dressed in her school uniform, her hair tied in her usual twin tails, her face looking anything but amused, especially once she ascertained the large density of uniformed students in the general vicinity of the exit – it was practically the whole of her class.

"Seriously! I really don't know what to say... I would have expected something like this from _you two_, but I can't _believe_ what the rest of you is doing here! ...Even you, Mitsurugi-kun?" She only just discovered his bandaged head of dark hair at the edges of the unrepentant flock.

"You only just transferred to our class, and you're already participating in this kind of lunacy? I had the impression that you were a more reasonable person! I expected _all of you _to be more reasonable than this, even you, Suzuhara Touji! You'd think that getting caught up in the _last_ battle would be more than enough for anyone!"

"I'm not _planning_ to stay for the battle!" Touji retorted.

"And you expect me to believe that? Where else would you be going?!"

"We want to cheer on Ikari." Kensuke explained.

"And obviously get the heck out of there _before_ the battle starts." Touji added, since that detail was not necessarily self-evident if his friend was the one speaking. "Kensuke found out when and where he and Ayanami will depart from their underground complex. The real battle is scheduled to take place somewhere else entirely."

"We all know that he can be a little... sensitive at times. So I thought that a little extra motivation couldn't hurt, and had Kensuke invite everyone.

Those two will be risking their asses for us before this night is over, so I really don't think this is the time to be obsessed with protocol!"

Hikari didn't reply right away – until now, she had always perceived Suzuhara Touji as... well, to be honest, as a big-mouthed, trouble-making ruffian. But seeing him worry about the new kid like this, making such a... 'ardent speech', he looked almost downright _heroic_ and unexpectedly mature...

"S-Still...! I have no guarantee that you're telling the truth. How do I know you won't do something incredibly stupid out there as soon as you're out of my sight? I'm supposed to be _responsible_ for our classes' evacuation efforts, in case an of you are familiar with the meaning of that word!"

"Well, class rep, if you really think we need a babysitter that badly, why don't _you_ come with us and make sure for yourself? If we really _do_ anything 'incredibly stupid', you can just go back and rat us out."

Several shouts of "Exactly!" could be heard from the crowd. "You really don't have to be so bossy all the time!"

Hikari paused to think.

"...and what about the others in our class?"

"They're hardly gonna set the shelter on fire just because you won't be there for five minutes. Or, if that really irks you so much, you could just take them with you!"

"...Alright! But I'm bringing my mobile, and if any of you try anything..."

"Yes, I know. We'll be in big trouble. We get it. We need to get going if we don't want to miss the EVAs."

"Hell yes! Let's go!" Kensuke agreed. "I can't wait to check out Ayanami's Evangelion. Just wait until you see how ridiculously awesome these things really are!"

* * *

><p>In the meantime, the preparations for the final showdown were running at full throttle – the provisional base atop the Futagoama had transformed into a bustling anthill: Trucks with new components were almost arriving by the minute, power transformers were being assembled, particle accelerators were being plugged in, superconductive cables were being installed, cooling systems were being tested, until the constant whirring of machinery blended with the voices of the technicians to create a sound reminiscent of a swarm of bees.<p>

Much like its sound scape, the outpost itself was beginning to take a distinctive shape, a giant-sized staircase leading up to its central heart piece that had finally been assembled.

"This here is our positron cannon." Hyuuga explained, for the benefit of the technical division's leader who had only just arrived on-site, having overseen the work on the Evangelions themselves until now. "An untested military prototype."

"It should be able to handle the job, at least on paper..." Dr. Akagi commented until her young assistant informed her that they had finished adjusting the sighting device to the G-type components. "We can't be sure that it won't just explode in our faces until we try it out."

"Well then, let us give that thing the benefit of the doubt."

But Hyuuga's daring bravado did little to soothe Dr. Akagi's worries, since the cannon was not even the main cause at their roots. "...the least reliable component in this setup is still pilot... In the end, all of this depends on whether Misato can persuade him... "

* * *

><p>Impossible.<p>

Try as he might, he could not force himself to do this.

He had dressed himself, called in to accept the mission, even familiarized himself with the finer details of the plans, but when he was supposed to take the last step towards a definite affirmation and report at the cages to finally board the bio-mechanical monstrosity, he found that he couldn't make himself budge.

One step forward, one step back, fairly usual fare for his waste of a life.

He seriously _intended_ to go out there and fight, but...

Shinji was afraid.

Beyond afraid, completely taken over by a heavy, leaden sludge of paralyzing fright that hardened around his limbs until his steps had been slowed to a half halfway across a runway between two of the lager buildings hanging from the ceiling of the geofront and refused to let him advance one more inch – Behind him, all lights had been turned off already, presumably to redirect the power to Misato's herculean endeavor to stop that monster; If he wanted to go back inside, he'd have to rip a sealed security steel door out of its frame. There was only the way forward, into the light, but he dreaded what lay ahead of that path.

The radiance reminded him of his previous battles, one if a nocturnal city full of artificial illumination, two times he was touched by weapons of light – This afternoon's memories were the freshest, the slightest brightness was enough to stir them up, recollections of a light so blinding it could unmake flesh and metal.

He tried to force himself to move, but then he thought of the agony, the terror and utter helplessness, and was swiftly reminded that he couldn't bear them, not even if the form of static memories.

He knew what had to be done and what it required him to do, but accepting that and actually carrying it out were very different things under the pressure of panic – if he let it, it could crush him without even becoming a reality, this mere idea of straining to hoist the entire weight of the world onto his shoulders from where billions of years worth of evolution and development could drop in a single split-second mishap, of being all alone with that weight and the certainty that if, no, _when_ he inevitably failed_ no one_ would be coming to save him.

Mishaps could not be avoided indefinitely; Anything that could go wrong _would_ go wrong sooner or later and then, he would be the one who brought the sky crashing down on the people of the earth, simply because he had agreed to try and prevent it – The plates are usually broken by the person who uses them the most...

What was the point of all this?

What did he even think he was doing here?

It wasn't like he knew anything about the forces he was meddling with. Misato, Ayanami and the others may have devoted their lives to this cause, but he wasn't qualified in the slightest. That was a fact. This was not a world where things would work out merely because he really wanted them to. Charging in there like a white knight in shining armor and giving the enemy a scary look was _not_ going to make him invincible of all sudden.

Leaning forward to rest his weight of the bannister framing the walkway, Shinji peered down at the abyss that, to him, seemed as alluring as ever.

He had forced himself out of that bed by telling himself that he would have to gorge himself on an overdose of sleeping pills if Rei were to die after he refused to have any part in that battle, but he had just been kidding himself.

If he had the guts to spare humanity from having to put up with his presence, or even the remote capacity to dispose of himself, he would have done the world this favor three years ago. If Rei were to die because of his ineptitude and cowardice, he would probably have to problem going on his merry way.

So what if he had a whole new reason to feel aggression seething every morning he inspected his mirror image, for the kind of asshole he knew he was, that wouldn't be more than just another drop in the ocean.

Yes, the chasm beneath his feet had seldom looked more attractive to the young Eva pilot, but his situation was like that horrible children's joke about this guy who won second place on an idiot competition... for being an idiot.

He contented himself with merely contemplating the sight of the depht. He'd stared into it for a much longer time before, that time in the mountains, and that was when he found out that he was _seriously_ afraid of heights.

It was useless to try anything, up to this point, he had already come to accept his metaphysical prison.

This was him, Shinji Ikari: Too inept to even die properly, too much of a coward to turn his back on the world for good, let alone save it.

It should be of little surprise then that he didn't have the heart to turn around when he heard slow, but firm steps echoing across the small walkway.

He could already guess that it had to be Misato, that she would have her arms crossed, and that she would have a less than pleased look on her face, sitting in judgement over him with her lofty glare.

"Shinji-kun. You should have reported for duty already!" she admonished. It was practically hilarious that she picked this of all times to start sounding like an actual parent.

Shinji might have laughed if he hadn't felt like screaming.

He didn't know how to answer her.

"You chose to stay of your own, free will, didn't you? So do your job!"

Of course. He had pretty much expected her to pull this sort of tactic.

Like this was an issue of _wanting_...

"I'm afraid, Misato-san. I'm afraid of piloting the EVA." he quietly admitted, his back still turned in her direction. Fearing the cold, sharp words hat could be reasonably expected to follow, he reached to somehow justify himself before she could form her retort.

Why did he even have to be in this situation in the first place? Why him?

Why would _he_ have to come up with any explanations at all?

Last time he checked, _she_ was the one asking unreasonable things of him. She was demanding he go out there and put his life on the line, all by himself, with little to no chance of victory...

"That's easy for you to say, you and the others, you'll just be sitting safely in your bunkers and giving orders... you're leaving all the horrible things to me..."

In the wake of long-suppressed emotions bubbling to the surface, he finally turned away from the handrail, looked Misato in the eye and spoke the words that had been sticking to his tongue for the past six weeks: "Do you have _any idea_ just how _**unfair**_ all this is?!"

Shinji's statements produced a long chain of consecutive reactions in Misato's face, starting with simple shock that he would openly throw such accusations in her face without hiding behind a passive-aggressive veneer of badly faked complacence, to a doubtlessly affected glance aside, sudden realization, a thin smile, and ultimately, a firmed, determined look aimed directly at the disgruntled boy.

If _that_ was his problem, then she knew what to do about it, that, at least, was something he could fix.

"Just come with me for a bit!" she demanded, grabbing her young ward by the wrist, already aware that words alone wouldn't be enough to produce an effect.

She thought she was beginning to understand, at least a little bit.

* * *

><p>The numbers in the elevator's gauge kept getting higher and higher, the little wheels compromising it kept up their steady clicking like a metronome as the small elevator delved deeper and deeper into the abyss of the geofront, to the center of the sphere, of which the little tip compromising the huge subterranean area on which NERV headquarters was built had only been the tip of the iceberg, traveling onwards into the darkness.<p>

Misato kept Shinji's hand safe and warm in her grasp, squeezing it from time to assure him that everything was going according to plan.

The boy kept his eyes averted from her.

He knew that when the actual battle came, her hand would be somewhere completely different.

But even Misato's gaze was, all determination notwithstanding, aimed straight ahead.

This wasn't a topic she was particularly comfortable talking about.

"Fifteen years ago... half of the earth's human population was eradicated in the incident you know as Second Impact. According to the history books, this calamity was caused by a small meteorite hitting the antarctic ice shields at near light speed.

But that is only the official version – what really happened on that day was covered up."

"What? Are you saying everything I ever heard about Second Impact at school was a lie?"

"Exactly. But as a member of NERV, you're allowed... no, _entitled_ to hear the truth.

15 years ago, humanity discovered a large, humanoid being in the antarctic ice... that was the first angel. When they tried to analyze it, it came to life and exploded for yet unknown reasons. That explosion was the Second Impact.

If any of the remaining angels ever succeeds in causing a _Third_ Impact... then it's game over for humanity. No one would survive."

"So in the end, none of this really changes what I've already heard over and over again. I'm supposed to save you all, all by myself."

Misato didn't directly address his complaint, but simply continued with the explanation she had been meaning to give from the start, suspecting that it would be better at convincing him anyway:

"If any angel should ever successfully invade NERV headquarter and breach level EEE, the entire complex is set to self-destruct. To avert Third Impact, we would be willing to sacrifice ourselves. Everyone who works here is aware and agrees with the necessity of such a measure." Misato explained, her voice serious.

And as it usually went when someone spoke of the devil, the little turning wheels of the lift switched to display the letters EEE before she had finished speaking.

Shinji barely managed to note that the letters were printed on blood red ground when the elevator's lighting switched off – but soon, light in ample quantities was entering from outside, an insubstantial, uncertain red glow that matched the surreal wold outside the elevator all too well. Everything seemed drenched in a deep red, and they might have been surrounded by a liquid medium; That, at least would explain the strange, oversized bubbles out there, and the seemingly organic networks and structures that seemed to defy gravity: They resembled oversized microorganisms or perhaps a coating of corals, microscopic slime molds perhaps, or the yolk sacks that unborn organisms carried with them in the earliest stages of their embryonic development.

The way they appeared to be 'rooted' to the 'floor' of this bizarre place, or, if they were growing from the 'ceiling', their way of branching out, was also distantly reminiscent of trees.

The elevator, downright tiny compared to these alien structures, lead them through this layer and deep into the 'ground' and the 'roots' that filled it with their growths.

By the time the door opened, a look upwards would not have served to spot anything but darkness.

Shinji didn't even want to know what the meaning of these structures was supposed to be, or just how deep underground they just went.

But a plate found on a gigantic gate, the only recognizable piece of technology in this dark alien world besides the elevator itself, insisted on informing him:

"TERMINAL DOGMA

MAIN LCL PLANT

HEAVEN'S DOOR"

When Misato swiped her security card through the corresponding slot and the machinery inside the gate audibly sprang to life, Shinji shuddered with the sudden feeling that he never should have come to this place. He felt like he was about to desecrate the adytum of a temple, and the numerous, subsequently opening little mechanisms didn't make it any better. What really made Shinji's blood run cold, though, was the sight that greeted him behind them, burning itself into his brain instantly and forever.

He could have gone mad on the spot.

Before his feet lay an endless expanse of red liquid, and from its approximate middle protruded a large, red, cross-shaped monolith.

And fixed to it with nails through it's palms and numerous tubes coming from behind was a creature that vaguely resembled a human torso.

It's pierced hands were almost exactly identical to a humans, but lacked fingernails; The white, shapeless skin hung in folds around the nail and drooped from the arms like cloth. Its thick, massive neck, to, was wrinkled, and above it was a thick, violet mask-like plate of which it was impossible to decide whether it was a bony body part like those he had repeatedly seen on the angels, or something that had been tacked on artificially to shield onlookers from the unmentionable horrors beneath. Either way, it appeared to have seen better days with less scratches and bumps, and its hard edges cut into the chalk-white, rubber-like flesh, demanding a tribute in slow trickles of orange blood.

In any case, the face was where any pretense of humanity ended, because the plate, otherwise featureless save for a triangular symbol, came equipped with seven openings behind which dark, lifeless, not further defined orifices could be glimpsed at, that were outed as eyes by the shape of the slits in the mask more than anything else.

Additionally, the being possessed a vestigial auricle, but otherwise lacked any features that would be expected on a human head.

Shinji wasn't sure whether it's chest should be classified as 'male' or 'female'; The presence of nipples or areola would sure have helped. Once he thought about it, the breast mounds did appear somewhat rounded, although he was easily distracted by the indefinitely more conspicuous scar running diagonally across the creature's body, garnished by numerous cross-shaped nails that looked tiny compared to the being itself.

From the chest downward, the white body was hopelessly disfigured. One could still vaguely recognize a narrowing following by a widening, in the sense of a feminine waist followed by a childbearing pelvis, but that aside, it was quite appropriate to say that the entity consisted of nothing but shapeless lumps of misshapen meat -

At first glance, one might have concluded that it was missing its legs, but a closer look revealed that it had more than enough of those – dozens, if not hundreds pairs of distinctly feminine lower limbs sprouted from the disfigured abdomen, from all angles and in all possible sizes and degrees of completeness, some even including associated buttocks.

Here and there, you could even see smaller legs growing _out of larger ones_, from knees and ankles, thighs and calves, and all the inbetweens.

And the worst was, they were still _twitching_.

They were moving.

This thing... This being, whatever it was... despite all this, it was _still not dead_.

Not that it seemed particularly alive, either; A waterfall of an orange liquid, that could only be the creature's blood incessantly streamed down the cross into the endless bloody lake that stretched out before his and Misato's feet.

At first, Shinji thought that it must be coming from the exit wounds corresponding to its scar, but the flow didn't seem to have the right width for that. He couldn't see where exactly all that blood was coming from, but he couldn't shake off the impression that this thing was... _menstruating. _

The whole enormous cave was certainly thoroughly drenched in an oppressive stench of old blood which didn't take too long to sweep into the hallway Misato and Shinji were standing in, forcing the latter to fight down an acute bout of sudden nausea.

"Is that... that... that can't be, can it? An... an Angel? Or ...an EVA?"

"It's neither." Misato explained. "This is probably the source of all life on this planet and, at the same time, the key to its obliteration. This is the Second Angel. Lillith."

"Lillith...?"

"Yes. It's a potential trigger for Third Impact. This is what the Angels have been trying to reach with their attacks, and the only thing that could possibly stand in their way is a being with the same powers... an EVA.

Because we need to protect Lillith, we fight with the EVAs. But none of us can use them. Only you can. So we have no choice but to trust both you and the EVAs with all of our futures... other than just sitting by and waiting for our doom to come, that is."

"And why does it have to be _me_?" Shinji demanded to know.

"Why was _I _of all people picked out to carry that heavy load _all by myself?_"

Misato, however, seemed to have been waiting for that particular question:

Without spending too much time thinking, she swiftly turned her head in his direction and gifted him with a warm smile.

"That's not something anyone decided. It's probably just your destiny.

But I brought you here because I wanted you to know that you're not the only one who is risking his life in these battles. We all are. Together.

You are _not_ alone."

Shinji's glance avoided hers.

It was not like he was really all that convinced on the inside, but Misato's words had certinly taking the edge off of his accusations.

He certainly didn't want to be responsible for the end of humanity.

"Alright. I'll pilot it. Just this once."

Misato affirmed her grasp on his hand anew, and he was, for the first time, all too ready to squeeze back and cling to the support she was offering him.

As long as she was with him... as long as she was holding his hand... he might just manage to convince himself that just maybe, he really wasn't on his own with all this.

At least for now.

* * *

><p>"We've been standing here, like, forever!" Touji complained. "Are you really sure this is the right time? If we stay here much longer, someone <em>is<em> gonna notice that we're not in the shelter..."

Touji, Hikari, Nagato and the rest of class A-2 were waiting on the roof of a bunker-like complex, and had been doing so for quite a while. Much to Hikari's displeasure, a few students, including Kensuke, who was no checking his wristwatch, had decided to sit down under the railway and let their feet dangle off the building.

"The time is definitely right. I got the info from my Dad's computer."

"In that case, why aren't they here yet?"

Touji's doubts, however – along with everyone else's – were soon silenced when the students started hearing machine noises.

An entire mountainside, along with all of it vegetation was in the process of moving to the side, revealing steel and concrete beneath.

"Unbelievable! The mountain is moving!" Touji shouted.

Kensuke had already jumped to his feet. "That's got to be the Evangelions!"

Both boys, much like the other students they had brought along, didn't cease their awe while the two titanic bio-machines were lifted to the surface.

Even Nagato and the usually serious class representative displayed a certain degree of excitation.

"So that's Ikari-kun's robot?" Hikari asked.

"Yep!" Kensuke confirmed. "That is, Ikari pilots the purple one. The orange one is probably Ayanami's."

And indeed, the usually strict class representative leaned past the handrails, raised her arms into the air and shouted: "You can do this! Do your best!"

Touji stared at her for a third of a second.

Looks like she wasn't _always_ bossy, at least not 24 hours a day... right now, she practially had a caring, nurturing quality about her.

"We trust in you!" Touji joined in, which prompted most of the class to break out in various kinds of cheering, with those with longer reaction times taking until Kensuke's "You're the greatest!"

Nagato was far too self-concious to start shouting at loud, but did hesitantly rise his arm and wave as the Evangelions stomped past them, sporting a bit of genuine enthusiasm or even a faint smile towards the end.

* * *

><p>After their arrival at the provisional base, Shinji paradoxically found himself with a fair amount of time on his hands, despite the general urgency of the situation, since his part in the operation couldn't begin until the last preparations were taken care of.<p>

So, he stuffed himself back into his school uniform, and tried walking around the perimeter for a bit to kill the time.

It didn't help much.

Seeing the numerous technicians work on all these unique, delicate and complicated arrangements did little to quell his unease, if not the exact opposite, for their sight didn't allow him to forget, not even for a second, that he would very soon be responsible for all of their lives, _and_ all of their efforts – whether their hard work would bear fruit was all up to him, and he couldn't help but feel stunned by the weight of that undeniable certainty.

It was just as hard as it was to assemble the electronics in this time frame, as it was easy to fill it with funereal brooding.

Somehere along the way Shinji decided to follow Misato's suggestion and try to catch ome sleep in some quieter corner of the bunkers, but it was futile, in part because of his growing anxiety regarding the battle, but also because he'd already spent most of the afternoon in bed, if not exactly by choice.

Still, when they did ultimately call him in for the final briefing, he felt no relief.

* * *

><p>"Look over there, Shinji-kun! That's our new positron rifle I told you about. We're going to use this to break through the enemy's AT-field."<p>

"But... it was never intended for real combat, right? How do we know it won't just explode?" the young EVA pilot asked, uncertainly.

"According to our calculations, it should be able to handle the strain, but I want to be honest with you." Dr. Akagi replied. "If this works out, it will be the first time in history that such amounts of energy have been channeled into a single device. Compared to this array, the Large Hadron Collider is a children's toy. No one can say if the conduits, the capacitor or the barrel will be p to the task before we fire the first shot."

Shinji swallowed.

This was already starting out _great_.

"I will now inform you of your roles in this operation!" Misato continued. "Shinji-kun?"

"Yes?"

"You will be the gunner in Unit One."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Rei?"

"Yes?"

"You will be the defense in EVA 00."

"Understood."

"Although Unit One is not completely repaired yet, we need to do it this way because Shinji-kun has a higher synch ratio with Unit One. This operation calls for utmost precision." the scientist explained. "You also need to take into account that the rifle doesn't fire in a perfectly straight line. At this scale, it is going to be influenced by earth's rotation, magnetic and gravitational field. This is important because you absolutely must strike the angel's core in a single shot."

"But how do I tell where it is?"

"When the angel takes its attack stances, it reveals a peculiar structure in its center. We believe that it is the core. We have already inputted a target recognition program into your interface. All you have to do is to follow the on-screen prompt and pull the trigger when the indicators meet in the center. The computer will handle everything else.

But since the power supply system we're using is so complicated, your EVA won't have much leeway to move. You will need to remain in sniping position no matter what."

"So dodging is impossible..." Shinji realized, visibly disconcerted.

"Right."

"And what happens if I miss and the enemy shoots back?"

"Don't concern yourself with unnecessary thoughts. Just focus on destroying the target in one shot."

"So I have one shot...or it's all over..."

Then good night!

Shinji had never trusted his reflexes very much, let alone under such pressure.

In theory, awareness of the high stakes involved in this venture should have made him _more_ cautious and prudent, if anything, but in practice, this reality involved the limitations of the uncertainty principle.

This stress level alone was enough to make any outcome that didn't involve a massive failure of r_oyal_ proportions downright unattainable.

His salvation, temporary as it was, came in the shape of a high and fragile voice whose owner posed a question that should have been superfluous after the previous explanations:

"And my task... will be to protect EVA 01, correct?"

It was almost like she deliberately wanted to remind him that she still there.

That he wouldn't be alone.

But that's it. Only almost.

He could no longer even tell whether he was just trying to convince himself of just that, reading things into a simple request for confirmation to retroactively rationalize his decision to get himself back into this crazy flurry of harsh noise and dazzling light.

What reason would she have to be worried about him, after all?

"Yes." Misato stated, closing the open question and shutting down the tentative field lines tingling-warm tension it left in the air. "Get yourselves dressed."

* * *

><p>The provisional base came complete with a provisional wardrobe, small, bunker-like, situated in a re-purposed vehicle, and – this being the issue – with only a green, half-translucent curtain to separate the boys' from the girls' lockers.<p>

Shinji got it over with as swiftly as he could, and subsequently preoccupied himself with folding his uniform, and even his socks and underpants with meticulous care, mostly as an exercise to calm his threadbare nerves; At the touch of a button, the initially loose-fitting fabric of his plug suit tightened around his thoroughly unimpressive body.

He still didn't look particularly confident.

By contrast, Rei had simply undiscerning dumped her uniform in a artless pile on the ground.

Her dress was already sprawled before her feet, and her blouse followed shortly after.

Even her bra was carelessly thrown to the floor.

Next, she plucked her panties (pure white, like most of what she seemed to own in terms of underwear) off her buttocks and let them slide down her thin, but subtly curved, marble white legs and stepped out of it, leaving it, too, just where it had fallen.

"We might-" only when he attempted to strike up a conversation did he realize that he was staring _yet again_ and shamefully averted his eyes even though she probbly wouldn't notice from behind the curtain.

Unobserved, Rei pulled the plug suit's rubbery fabric over her flawless body.

"We might both be dead by tomorrow morning..." Shinji speculated, dejected. He still didn't have the slightest bit of faith in the possibility that he might actually succeed, so he was all the more shocked by the clear, firm answer he received: **"No."**

"You won't die." Rei announced, determined. The plug suit tightened around her body and shrank her silhouette behind the curtain to a very distinctive shape.

"Because I will protect you."

The sound of her steps, much like her silhouette, disappeared in the distance behind the green curtain, until the opening mechanism of an automatic door could be heard.

Once it closed behind her, Shinji was left in silence, contemplating whether he was even _worth_ protecting.

He didn't think so.

* * *

><p>"These messages were left at our public affairs bureau. They're for you."<p>

Surprised, and somehow still disbelieving, Shinji visually inspected the small audio device, hesitating to take it out of Misato's hands.

It probably had to be something important if Misato had gone through the trouble to cut him off on his way to the boarding platforms, even though he couldn't imagine who could possibly have left this for him.

Warily, he pressed down on the "play" button.

"_It's me, Suzuhara. Ikari... no, I should probably be calling you by your first name by now. _Shinji._ We trust in you!"_

"_This is... Mitsurugi. I'm certain that you... will be victorious, Ikari-san."_

"_Hi, this is Aida! Ikari, show 'em what you're made of!"_

* * *

><p>With the moment of truth approaching, the isles of Japan went dark.<p>

One light after another turned itself off, one window after the other, city after city; Even a certain penguin observed in astonishment how the darkness spread beyond his familiar living room window, until only the milky way remained as the last source of light.

The various underground shelters were no exception here, millions of people found themselves sitting in the darkness with questioning looks, waiting for the state of emergency to be lifted, including Touji and Kensuke.

They had already done what little was within their might, everything else was up to Shinji and Rei.

They could only hope that their contribution had been enough to make a difference.

* * *

><p>After everything was said and done, Shinji and Rei found themselves on their boarding platforms next to their respective EVAs, sitting far up in the clouds above the brightly glowing structures of the provisional base, two lonely silhouettes beneath the starry canopy.<p>

While Shinji was sitting cross-legged, Rei had all her limbs pulled close to her body.

He found the presence of the huge gap between them regrettable, but he didn't know what he would have done differently if it hadn't been there.

In the end, the precipice between them wasn't purely physical in nature.

Lost in thought, Shinji once again found himself silently observing his comrade from the distance, this girl that hadn't ceased to mesmerize him for the past few weeks.

For most of this time, he'd had this impression of her as a fragile being he wished to protect, but now, _she_ wound up being the one pledging to protect _him_.

Not that this should be particularly surprising: Despite her delicate, sickly-looking exterior, this girl had already shown him what she was made of back when they first met. Fear seemed unknown to her, and many of the things she had been willing to do in the short time they knew each other left little doubt of her boundless inner strength and determination.

In the last two days, Shinji had learned so many new things about her, and at the same time, he was well ware that he still knew nothing at all, but there were at least two things he was perfectly certain of:

That this silent, solitary girl was worthy of all the respect and admiration he could possibly produce from his tainted dishonest heart, and that he wished from the depths of his soul to be _**like her**_, that he might one day, in a distant, faraway future measure up to her strength and determination, her ability to simply go and carry out what he knew had to be done even if it would be less than pleasant, but also her capacity for loyalty and devotion, hat he might be able to give of himself, maybe not for a big abstract cause, but at least for an important person, and to her way of neither resenting nor judging when he could only produce a deficient imitation of apathy.

She was the first person who ever showed him any degree of understanding without demanding anything in return, and yet, she had also managed to gift a thoroughly useless person like him with the feeling of being _needed_ for once in his life, that he might be capable of doing something, _anything_ to genuinely benefit other people.

For these two things alone, she would always hold a special place in his heart, even if none of this had been her intention... and she would most likely never know.

There was still a large, large distance separating them.

Still... If he should fail now, if he should bring about the end of the world, he was grateful to have seen her one last time.

But there was one more thing Shinji wanted to know before they would go into battle side by side: "Say, Ayanami... why are _you_ an EVA pilot?"

She paused to think first, almost as if she had never considered this question before, at least not in this particular form.

When she _did, _however, present an answer at last, there was not a speck o doubt in her voice:

"...because of my bonds."

"...bonds?"

"Yes. It's my bond."

"...with my father?"

"...with everyone."

"You are very strong, Ayanami..." Shinji admitted in a tone between serious admiration and open shame about his own inadequacies. But Rei herself didn't see it as anything to be proud of: "I'm just doing what I'm here for. I have nothing else."

Shinji reacted with deep perturbation.

Did he say something to upset her again, or- he didn't know. He had no idea what exactly she was specifically referring to, but he knew that just hearing her say that filled his chest with a heavy lump of bitter sadness.

'I have nothing else'... that sounded far too much like his own feelings...

He didn't _want_ her to feel something like this, she shouldn't _have_ to, he couldn't see how a downright awe-inspiring person like her could possibly _deserve_ to feel the way he did all too often. But what could he possibly say? A complete outsider like him... If he could, he would have preferred to grab her hand and never let go of it (at the very least, that had been somewhat helpful when Misato did it with him), but that was impossible.

Even if she had been within his reach, he would never dare to approach her.

Just what could someone like him ever really do for her?

"It is time. We must depart." Rei declared before he even found the time to ponder this question. She hadn't finished speaking when she rose to her feet and straightened herself up, covering part of the lunar disk like a white, impregnable tower sparkling in the moonlight, reminding him once again of why he ever so often felt so tiny and insignificant before her.

The pale moonshine turned out to be the perfect lighting for her, it seemed like it could make all of her essence visible with one glance.

Shinji couldn't help but to pause his thoughts just to marvel at her - This image of Rei in the moonlight was more beautiful than any sight he had ever witnessed in his life so far.

This was obviously not the first time he had seen her with fairly revealing clothing (or none at all), but most of this time had been spent contemplating various oddities of her behavior and relations, or panicking because of her unclothed state, so he never really paused to really notice that while she was many other things, she was also _beautiful. _

Her slim legs, which some might have found lacking in substance, but, in Shinji's opinion, radiated a certain elegance; Her stance, upright and determined, ready to succeed in her objective at any cost, her breast, slightly below average in size, but firm and taut, her butt, small yet feminine, still retaining a rounded, childlike quality, her supple hips every bit as curved as they should be... utmost perfection, but also, a beauty of a potentially very ephemeral sort -

Holding his father's old glasses, she preceded her departure with one last "Farewell", immediately taking Shinji back to her earlier answers, and the thought and associations those provoked just exasperate his feeling of being close to falling apart spontaneously, speechless and unheard within his self-inflicted halo of silent darkness, holding back unshared words that strove to burst out in fireworks, and all the more unable to keep her from saying any more of these horrible, sad things or the corresponding thoughts that gave rise to them, not when he couldn't even force his own thoughts to make sense, or stay on the trails he had intended for them...

And just like this, with a brief session of thinking, he had found a wealth of new reasons to hate himself, as much as some critics might argue that a bunch of them were just cheap rehashes of the same old, of which there is seldom anything new under the sun.

He must not fail.

For her sake, as well.

* * *

><p>Ultimately, the steady trickle of seconds, cruel in both its steady advance and sudden arrival, unavoidably reached the dreadful, viscous moment when the battle was a few effusive instants away from demanding its due respect as the undeniable, tangible reality of the present moment, and Shinji was already long since trapped inside the entry plug, deep within the EVA's flesh, away from all exits and boarding platforms.<p>

Struggling to harness this last certain opportunity to gather his thoughts and concentrate, he had leaned backwards until he almost vanished into his chair, closing his eyes in a forced attempt to calm himself down.

He mustn't miss.

He mustn't run away.

It was all up to him now.

He had only one shot, and it had to be dead on target.

And the moment when he would have to do this was right now, as announced by a high-pitched acoustic signal.

"Shinji-kun... I know how much effort it took you to even agree to participate in this. For that alone, I am grateful."

He absorbed each of her words like drops of nectar and ambrosia, hoping that this humble stockpile would be sufficient to appease his fear, perhaps not completely, but just long enough.

"Operation Yashima begins now!" He then heard her order.

In that same instant, the bunker was bristling from all the typing and coordinating – Dr. Akagi, Hyuuga, Ibuki, Aoba, the elder Mitsurugi, and many other technicians, like the tree young women that shared the bunker with them, one with straight, straight cut chin-length dark hair, another with a more natural, fluffy bob, and the last with a somewhat androgynous figure and her hair strictly tied back into a ponytail, they all had their hands full with work.

Even commander Ikari and Fuyutsuki, who had stayed behind at headquarters and occupying their usual spots on the unusually vacant command bridge, were solemnly observing the events on the main screen.

Practically no time after the various technicians had finished its assembly, the components of the energy supply systems were being activated one after an another – So far, everything seemed to be going alright or at least staying inside the expected parameters, including the countdown that had sprung into existence just one undefined time span ago, seeping into his consciousness only when it was already in progress.

Shinji was audibly inhaling and exhaling, growing more nervous by the second.

He had to strike it down in one single shot... or it was all over.

The end of the world was imminent ….and only he could stop it...

The next phase of the plan was set into motion – continuous fire from automatic turrets, intended to lure the enemy into the offensive, make it reveal its core – and distract it, if such a thing was possible.

As expected, the simple rockets were hardly any challenge for the angel; Its continuous flow of transformations eagerly performed the crassest order of sacrileges against common sense and euclidean geometry.

Meanwhile, the lively exchange of hermetic techno-babble all over the provisional base, impenetrable as it may have been to Shinji, had resulted in most of the energy being moved exactly where they wanted it; the loading sequence for the particle gun was beginning, the sight devices being deployed, one the size of a car for EVA 01, and a smaller pendant inside Shinji's entry plug.

Discouraged, Shinji observed the wild dance of the on-screen indicators and the virtually invincible Angel beyond.

This whole undertaking had gotten into motion much faster than he could even begin to properly comprehend the vast magnitude of implications connected to this surreal spectacle, a level of importance and weight he couldn't even properly grasp because his imagination was insufficient to give it form.

"...I wish I had Ayanami's determination... I don't even have the slightest bit of faith that I can actually do this. What am I even doing here, and why is it me doing it? _Protecting humanity?! _ What does that even mean...?"

The time to figure out the answer was a luxury he didn't have. All the energy produced by every single power plant in this country, all the efforts of every single person who had ever worked on this... it all converged on his shoulders and pressed the breath out of his chest.

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"FIRE!"Misato ordered.

Simultaneously, both triangular indicators in the interface united in the shape of a star.

"_Massive energy surge inside the target!"_

Shinji pulled the trigger.

The beam sped past the land like an avalanche of light, melting a few unfavorably placed pylons and frameworks straight into oblivion.

But the angel was far from oblivious about the concentration of energy that had been swelling in the distance, and swiftly formed back to its hourglass-like configuration, dispatching another jet of radiant light.

Upon contact, both beams circled each other until they were entwined to a single connection of pure light, but that state didn't persist for too long, since the particles that made up the beams influenced each other with their charges and the electromagnetic fields they created – The angel's beam barely missed the refuge of humanity and crashed into a nearby mountain, blowing a gigantic pillar of light into the sky and raining thick sprinkles of lava upon the landscape.

The beam from Shinji's weapon was a bit luckier: It broke through the angel's AT-field, all according to the calculations, burning a swatch of destruction through its innermost – And at once, Shinji was made to realize that he was fighting flesh and blood, not some mineral automaton – Unlike its predecessors, its hard, strictly geometric structure and strictly methodical behavior like its indiscriminate attacks and slow, but steady drilling could easily be misconstrued into a distinctly inorganic, even mechanical impression, but now, after he had struck the creature at its center, there could be no doubt, for it reacted very much like any average animal would react to a deep injury – it _screamed. _

A blood-curdling, screeching noise somewhere between chalk starching along a whiteboard and a wailing human impact echoed through the night, accompanied by an apparently involuntary transformation into a mass of asymmetric, chaotic spikes that broke out from the angel's outline in a matter of seconds, burnt-out black, only retaining their characteristic blue color in their center, almost like the angel was in too much pain to bother bringing it along.

It was a scream that could not only be heard, but also very much _felt, _throwing the air into violent vibrations that reverberated in every fiber of those unfortunate enough to witness it firsthand.

The angel was ostensibly _wounded_.

But was it a mortal wound?

The unearthly messenger, a being that was never intended to ever touch the ground, could no longer maintain its levitation and sank; From the middle that had been the target of Shinji's positron beam, blood spurted forth like a geysir, a whole supernova rushed out o the angel's body, spraying entire city districts full of crimson.

"Did we just win?" Misato asked.

Every pair of eyes and every flock of sensors, be it in the provisional bunker or central command, immediately darted to the angel's physical wound, which in the strictest, most concrete sense consisted of a cylindrical entrance canal and the bloody, shattered crystalline flesh around it.

Those cracks looked pretty much irreparable – but they weren't.

With shocked, wide open eyes, the NERV employees inside the bunker watched as the supposed shard arrangeds themselves back into one plane and connected.

Even the gaping hole in-between closed up completely without even leaving the slightest blemish, and beneath, the core: red, round, and unscathed – Shinji had barely grazed it.

Someone with a stronger desire or capacity to make the world conform to their model might have explained this all away with bad luck or a minuscule error in their timing, but Shinji could not deny the first thing his instincts told him, simply because he did not have the time or the strength to stuff that impression away –

The lingering certainty that his opponent had _seen _him,

that demanded him to acknowledge the fellow mind that was peering at him from beyond the mountains – It was apparent that the angel's attack was never meant to hit them in the first place... instead, its primary purpose must have been to divert NERV's particle beam, and be it ever so slightly.

Not only had the angel seen their attack coming despite the steady bombardment to distract it and their position far outside its firing perimeter, it had been able to anticipate that its AT-field alone wouldn't be enough to shield it from the beam, and initiated precursory actions to protect itself...

This thing was _highly intelligent, _and Shinji's bungled attack had just told it where it needed to aim if it wanted to get rid of all its problems really quick.

He _knew_ he would screw this up.

He had known all along.

The angel didn't waste a single second – at first, it folded itself back into its preferred, octahedral form to gather its strength...and then, it got ready for the _coup de grâce_, and twisted upon itself to produce a gigantic, star-like shape whose size needed to be multiplied through several iterations of the same motions.

It was as if a new sun had been lit in the very center of the lightless night; The angel had no intention of leaving anything half-finished, and thus chose the simplest, most direct path between itself and its enemy: A straight line.

The medium sized mountain unlucky enough to be situated right on that line melted in seconds, fleeing in a wave of fervid lava, away from the sheer boundless energy striving to evaporate it.

The earth beneath the provisional base shook as the components in bedrock beneath them changed into substances with other physio-chemical properties in a cascade of reactions fueled by the immense heat; Where the light directly touched the ground, the stones simply disintegrated, sending the more tenacious chunks flying across the landscape, as if banished by a decree of the heavens. Tanks flew through the air, various facilities sunk into the molten ground, materials shattered from the thermic shocks alone, bunker windows broke, welcoming certain death along with the shards.

If the entire provisional base didn't instantly evaporate along with the several hundred NERV employees in it, then only because it was situated at the back of the mountain – The angel had been aiming for the summit, precisely targeting the source of the positron beam whose deadly powers it had only barely escaped.

Up there, the world as we knew it was about to disintegrate and dissolve, leaving behind puddles of liquid metal; The atmosphere itself was red, burnt and ionized, the arrangement of the laws and forces suitable for humans had broken down to the point that small rocks spontaneously began to float freely into what was left of the air.

Further down, on the side of the mountain that was turned away from the angel, known physics were still sufficiently intact to allow for the existence of small bunkers – and the one containing Misato, Dr. Akagi and their underlings had miraculously been among the lucky ones to remain in one piece.

Sure, most people inside of it had been thrown off their feet, the lighting wasn't working, the alarm systems didn't cease their beeping and it would probably take a while until the patch of ground just outside the entrance had cooled enough for a human being to survive leaving its confines, but they were here, they were still alive.

Although Misato had been standing freely between the consoles and therefore keenly felt the brunt of the tremors, she forced herself off the ground immediately.

"...the... energy supply system?" she asked, not wasting a second.

"It's still usable. We're already recharging!" Hyuuga immediately reported – having held on to his console, he was still left in his chair.

"...and what about the positron canon?"

"Still operational, barrel cooling already in progress... but no one knows whether it can withstand a second shot..."

That was enough.

It _had_ to be enough.

"Don't bother with the verification! We've got no choice, we _have_ to try again..." Misato concluded.

"Shinji-kun, are you alright? You need to get Unit One back into sniping position!"

But all that could be heard over the com line was uncontrolled sobbing.

Where you would once have found elaborate structures of metal and concrete forming a trench for the EVA and a socket for the particle gun, there were only scorched earth and the red glow of molten rock. It was true, the gun itself was still intact, but it was just about the only thing around here that could be described as such, probably owing to its immediate proximity to Unit One and its AT-field on the immediate moment of contact – not that it provided more than a subtle mitigation.

EVA 01 itself had been knocked back a few hundred meters by the force of the strike, which was probably what had saved the life of its pilot – had they been exposed to the beam for the full duration of its shot, both he, EVA 01 and the positron rifle would have melted into unrecognizable puddles by now.

But even so, the outer layers of EVA 01's armor had not escaped without their partially molten patches, and while the god-machine had withstood both the attack's kinetic energy as well as the heat of the beam itself, Shinji had felt all of these things all too keenly, as if the slightly scorched surface of the still-steaming cyborg were his own skin.

He had missed his target...

He failed, as he knew he would, and-

-the terrible, terrible pain...

Everything he had feared had taken place before his very eyes, before _all_ of his senses, all roads leading to his brain.

Incapable of forming even the tiniest clear thought, he sat there, his legs brought as close to his body as the fixtures of the entry plug would let him, his arms clasped around his body, helplessly sobbing in the dark as the angel's bright, white radiance burned in every square centimeter of his skin.

Tears of desperation gathered in the corners of his eyes.

In the end, all pretty words of this world didn't make a difference; Everything still went exactly like it did the last time... So many people had done their best, Misato, Dr. Akagi... everyone...

They all had trusted in him, and he had still messed up his one shot.

How could he ever expect this to turn out any way other than _this?_

_This, _all over again...

Quite possible that Misato and the others would use their last breaths to curse him, and soon after, the world would be left in ruins, every single person on this planet would die and would all be his fault.

And the worst was that while absolutely nothing could be done to stop it (Misato was telling him to try again, but they both already knew that it would never work – even if their equipment didn't blow up on him, he couldn't see ho the outcome would be any different), he would be left with a good few minutes to ponder his own misery and the scope of consequence of that one missed shot: He would have to live until he died, right where he started, paralyzed by fear and dread, painfully aware of his own helplessness.

All he could do was sob – even though he knew full well that there was no one to hear his cries and come for him, no one who would even _consider_ getting him out of he-

"The pilot of Unit One is hereby relieved of duty. The pilot of Unit Zero will take his place."

Shinji's eyes, which until now had been tightly shut, were suddenly wide open, so far it seemed more like an abrupt switching of states than a process that required time.

That voice... He would have picked out this deep, matter-of-fact-ly voice among thousands, and yet, he would have expected to hear any of these thousand unknown voices before vaguely hoping for this familiar one.

It had come a long distance, reaching the boy's soul after a lengthy journey through his eardrums and those distinctly mammalian auditory bones, following a path alongside the slopes of the mountains, up from the depths of the earth – all the way from the lips of his father.

"Ikari!" the subcommander called, clearly alarmed, spinning around sharply to face his superior.

Fuyutsuki didn't have to tell him just how unfavorable the odds for a successful pilot switch were at this time, now, with the enemy preparing to finish them off at any moment, and its probe not too far above their heads, or how unlikely they were to win this battle with only one EVA and no one left to carry the defense shield.

Even still, Ikari was adamant: "We have no choice. The current pilot is incapable of carrying out the task."

That just couldn't be changed – The last few battles had been decided through what outwardly resembled random factors, but to him and other initiates was recognizable as the stern hand of predetermination; but that was as far as they could go with the current state of affairs: Barely fulfilling the tally. These were the limits of the Third Child's capacity.

Regardless, he never had any real alternative to using this unreliable, frightened boy - because of the great plan, because there were no other weapons available, because any other course of action would be even more strategically unsound. From the beginning, that child had been a contingency plan, the least efficient option except anything else currently at his disposal – that is, until now. Ikari Gendo had always been a rather pragmatic person with a straight, firm gaze at the big picture, at organizations as a whole – and as such, he had been able to accept the fact that he had (or saw?) no choice but to sot back as the child that had been entrusted to him by the woman he lobes screamed his lungs out.

But...

He couldn't do this again, not right afterward.

"Please reconsider!"

The commander's only ostensible outward reaction to seeing a he window with the face of the operations division leader open up on the main screen was a quiet, questioning sound.

"He hasn't run away yet! Don't you think we should leave it to him to decide whether he wants to continue or not? Please, have some faith in your own son.

I _trust_ in the pilot of Unit One."

Ikari didn't expect his subordinate to speak with such complete conviction;

Leaving the boy in her care had not been a mistake.

This whole situation stirred vague, long-buried recollections of days long gone.

Was it true? Had he underestimated his son?

It was quite possible. He had already failed this child in so many other ways...

...and that woman seemed so very sure of her cause.

"Alright. Proceed at your own discretion."

"Thank you very much, Sir!"

Shinji could hardly believe what he had just witnessed.

Misato... the others... even his father...

They really believed he could do this!

_He_ of all people.

They... they really believed in him.

They trusted him!

Were he not in this dire situation, and still feeling pain, he could have cried just from this alone.

He... was not alone.

He had _never_ been alone out here.

Misato... Dr. Akagi... All the Technicians... His friends and classmates, too. All of them trusted him! They had all done what they could – even if that was little more than to cheer him on – so that his burden would be lessened, so that he'd only have to press a button to finish this.

And they... they actually _believed_ he could.

Even now, Shinji couldn't believe his own blindness, he had been distracted by his own fear, his own pain, and even now, he found himself confronted with the ugly truth about the useless coward that stared back at him from the mirror every single morning:

He still didn't believe he had any chance of succeeding and _not_ wasting everyone's efforts... but he owed it to Misato, Ayanami and the others to at least try.

He had to show them all that he didn't want to leave_ them _alone either, that he at least _wanted_ to do his part as well, even if he couldn't promise them anything, even if all was already lost. At the very least, he wanted to show them that he did appreciate their faith and effort, so that... so that they might hate him a little bit less when everything inevitably went south.

So that he might hate _himself_ a little bit less.

He had to try this, he _had _to...!

Shinji knew that he would never forgive himself if he remained frozen in terror _now, _now that his father was watching him, even beginning to trust him with such an important task, now that he was, for the first time since he could remember, forming real expectations for him, like... a proper father.

Scratching together every tiny quantum of courage and determination that he had ever possessed in any crevice of his being, Shinji set himself into motion, still very much in pain, panting loudly and filled with dread, and clumsily reached forward with a hand that was separated from the fabric of the plugsuit by a thin layer of sweat, until he finally rasped the control yoke and held on to it like it was his own wretched life.

He rose from the back of his seat, his tears of joy and despair still ticking to the corners of his eyes, pulling himself forward with his arms because the rest of him hadn't finished being frozen up in fear.

All the people that he had once lightly accused of not believing he could even accomplish what they were asking them, all those in front of whom he had openly admitted that he didn't know where to get the strength to fight this war...

In the end, they very words, of all things, ended up being what he derived that streght from, draining syllable after syllable like some desperate mosquito.

"_Shinji. We trust in you!"_

With his teeth gritted so hard it hurt, he clawed the EVAs hands into the closest bits of bedrock that still seemed halfway solid, using it to pull the still steaming violet titan out of the half-molten pit it had been stuck in, barely managing to catch himself so he wouldn't collapse onto the ground all over again.

"_Hi, this is Aida! Ikari, show 'em what you're made of!"_

Groaning with exertion, he forced the singed bio-machine to crawl across the pulp that once constituted the ground, straight through all of the destruction left by the angel's last attack, dragging this aching body that wasn't his own with sheer force of will.

"_I _trust _in the pilot of Unit One."_

Without anything he could have used as an improvised crutch, he brought the Evangelion back onto its feet in defiance of everything his senses were currently trying to tell him, and picked up the positron canon that was enormous even when compared to the Evangelion.

Evangelion Unit 01... was in position.

"Shinji-kun?" At the time Misato's voice reached him, it was still brimming with the same confidence.

"The entire energy output of the japanese isles... all our hopes and dreams... and the future of humanity and every other living thing on the face of this planet... are now in your hands.

Good luck."

"Understood." Shinji affirmed, pulling on his control levers one last time to fully place the particle gun in its final firing position.

They told him that he would have to aim the gun manually this time, but his level of uncertainty and stress was such that this didn't even feature as a substantial increase – No time for that: The provisional base had just received reports that the angel's drill had breached the roof of the geofront.

All of NERV HQ must be shaking-

and so were Shinji's hands.

It was all or nothing now. After half a second of shaky attempts, he managed to aim the positron cannon at the angel.

The few seconds between the present and the moment the particle gun would be ready to use felt like an eternity – he wanted to be able to shoot already so he could end this fast-

"We're detecting another energy surge inside the target!"

"Damn it!"

_Oh no._

Please no, please, please no, please not now... not now, when he was finallly-

Shinji didn't even get the time to properly greet the incoming swelling of radiance with an appropriately contorted expression of horror before it broke loose from the angel's star shaped body, melting its way through rock and stone... but for some reason, not through the armor of EVA 01.

The only thing that reached Shinji was the blinding lights, but not the beam of high-energetic particles that endowed it its deathly power.

Struggling against that remained component alone, Shinji forced himself to open his eyes at least a little – and, in defiance to the contrary instinct, widened them to the brink when he realized just what had happened.

Instead of hitting their mark, the rays of deadly subatomic projectiles scattered all around him, numerous streams of incandescence simply passed him by, fanning out like the delta of a river without even grazing him, because at their nexus, armed with an ridiculously large, spaceship-shaped shied and garish orange armor, was EVA 00.

And while the pilot of the metal-coated meat colossus would probably always see it as the simple fulfilling of her duty, Shinji couldn't help but see it as it was: She had just saved his life, and with the thunder of divine retribution, she held back anything that could have stained the absolute clarity of an inevitable conclusion: He was _not_ alone, not even on the battlefield.

"AYANAMI!"

Now she had done it. If he hadn't been before, _now_ he was certain that his admiration for this girl would never cease.

There she was, boldly standing in the way of a fiery avalanche that could swallow them both at any given moment, protecting him with only a shield that was already breaking apart, and all this because of the obligation she felt towards each and every person she had crossed paths which until this day.

She had completely surrendered herself to the mercy of his ability to to this storm of fire; Hers was also one of the many lives that were currently depending on him.

The time had finally come; The time for him to add his own contribution to the great work, so that everyone else's would not go to waste.

He mustn't disappoint them, not now, when he had finally seen how they were really willing to support him.

He mustn't disappoint himself, now that he finally got the opportunity he had been waiting for... a n opportunity to prove himself to Ayanami, a chance to _protect_ her... and not just her, but all of this small world, this little... _home_ he had built for himself since the time of his arrival. He wanted to protect them with all of his strength, however small it might be.

Impatient, he worked at adjusting the cannon's aim.

"C'mon... C'mon..."

His initially pleading voice gradually transforming into a commanding tone.

"C'mon... C'mon!"

"_Come on!"_

Once the finder sight indicators clicked into place, Shinji didn't waste a second a pulled the trigger.

The positron beam tore through the enemy's ray of devastation, drew rights of electrified water around it as it passed over the sea, and finally pieced the angel straight in the middle, met with the sound of breaking glass.

The messenger still tried to save himself by folding back into his preferred, diamond-like shape so he might expel the fire, but it was no use.

The shot had gone all the way through, and quickly revealed why the angel was forced to separate its crystalline flesh from its core to fire its weapon – The finer structures that composed the angel's body might not be what we might call "molecules" or "atoms", but their particles were still liable to change their energetic states and dissolved their bonds if excess energy was available, so whatever it was reacted with itself and the surrounding atmosphere, and the resulting gaseous chemicals rushed out of the molten exit wound as flames.

Ramiel screamed, a sharp, grating shriek more grating than the last, the asymmetric spikes of the form accompanying it much wilder and larger – and then, he fell silent forever.

Multiple craters broke into the angel's surface, ugly, misshapen indentations, and in the walls of the largest one – multiple reflections of the core.

No matter what unearthly material the crimson sphere had been composed of, nothing living could withstand the direct contact with such extreme amounts of energy – there was a delay, but in the end, it simply burst, spraying the inner part of the spikes that had still remained blue with the bright red of its liquefied remains.

The second shot... had been lethal.

The probe that had caused them so many problems simply disintegrated just a little more than ten meters above the tip of the pyramid, baptizing NERV headquarters in a waterfall of blood.

The spikes, too, began to decay, first slowly and then at all once, starting with quickly multiplying rivulets of blood raining out of each of them, spraying out drops of the material with a startling gentleness, until finally, the hollowed out outline of the angel collapsed in a matter of seconds, smearing a streak of rainbow across the night sky as the last hollow remains refracted the moonlight as they were broken down into their components – the flying fortress had fallen.

But Shinji had no time to indulge this spectacle, because towards the end, Ayanami Rei, this fascinated, inexplicable, determined girl, had been protecting him with the bare body of her Evangelion after the last remainders of the shield had long since melted out of her hands, blocking the path of the angel's attack towards the bitter end.

Now that the task was accomplished, EVA 00 crashed to the ground like a falling rock, its only motions mindless convulsions of pain, much of its brown flesh exposed after its many constricting layers of metallic armor had been thoroughly seared or molten away, and the molten cinders that remained of the earth beneath them after all of these high-energy reactions were all too glad to swallow the one-eyed giant as compensation, even more, the helpless EVA, parts of which were still glowing white-hot, was eagerly devoured by the hungry battlefield like a small child in a pit of quicksand.

Immediately, Shinji carelessly threw the positron cannon aside, and raced to pull at least half of the smoking Evangelion onto the halfway solid patch of rock he was standing on.

Next, he had to get her out of there as fast as possible – everything else could be explained later.

Incapable of thinking up anything better, he just drew his prog knife and used it to hack at the molten hatch until he had cut it free and revealed the EVA's mechanized spine, just where the entry plug was supposed to go in.

Thankfully, the part of the machinery that was supposed to eject the entry plug and expulse the overheated LCL was still functional, sparing Shinji from having to further dissect the EVA and risk possibly harming its pilot in the process.

As soon as EVA 00's entry plug, the outside of which was partially molten and hot enough to inflict the same on EVA 01's hand, was safely set down on the ground, Shinji exited his own EVA, and leapt down from heights he would have been terrified of in any other context, from the plug to the sitting EVA's shoulder, down its arm and finally all the way to the ground, all without even really thinking about it –

At this point, his mind was concerned with one one thing, or rather, only one person.

Ayanami Rei.

For so long, he had been observing her and the peculiar world she lived in from the distance, for so long he had tried to get closer to her, all the while feeling like he was silently falling to pieces...

Now, he would finally be able to do something for her.

In haste, he turned the half-molten opening mechanism of the overheated emergency hatch, and it hurt like hell, just like it did when he used his Evangelion's hands to put the plug down in the first place, but he couldn't care less.

All he wanted to know was that she was alright.

The fight against the emergency hard was hard, but did bear fruit, and soon as it was out of the way, Shinji leaned into the darkness of the entry plug, where he found Rei's unmoving bone-white form lying in her control chair in the faint, silvery twilight of the moon.

"Ayanami! Ayanami!" he shouted into the murky gloom of the plug interior, increasingly anxious. "Are you alright? Please say something! AYANAMI!"

He couldn't make out any sort of reaction. What if she...!

No. She was moving.

The was a stirring in her thin fingers that had refused to let go of his father's glasses until the very end.

She was alive.

The rest of her sprang into motion as well; She weakly turned her head in his direction and opened her eyes.

He was the first thing she saw.

Shinji was completely overcome with emotion.

When he stepped into her entry plug, he could distinctly feel the tears of pure bliss accumulating ducts of limited, all the heat and salty sparkliness forcing itself out so vehemently it was almost painful.

She was alive.

In spite of all this...

Oh, by all gods and all celestial bodies, she was alive!

He was so hopelessly overwhelmed with feeling that he couldn't piece together anything to say in a situation like this, leaving him with no options other than to let these true, unprocessed feelings pour out as they were.

"Please... don't say any more horrible things like 'I have nothing else'..." he began.

Rei just looked at him with big eyes. "...and always this 'Farewell', as if we'd never meet again... That always makes me so sad..."

Shinji lovered his gaze, unable to get his sobbing under control.

As for Rei, she looked slightly confused, as if she genuinely didn't know what to do or say next. She, too, seemed a little bit overwhelmed.

Carefully, she moved herself into an upright sitting position without ever taking her eyes off of Shinji.

Rei didn't think she fully understood what was happening, or where this strong reaction on his part was coming from, but he did seem really upset again, as se had been before, and she felt a discomfort at the sight.

"Why are you crying?"

He didn't seem to be able to answer.

Had she done something wrong?

Dejected, Rei averted her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't know how to express myself in situations like this..."

Shinji looked up to her.

"How about a smile?"

Only now did she notice.

And it shocked her that she noticed only now.

The way he had leaned forward through the hatch, the devoted look in his midnight blue eyes, even that smile of deepest relief...

_Just like the commander._

He had come here... because of _her_. To save her, to make sure she was alright, she alone, regardless of how many clones were floating around in some tanks in NERV's underground complexes... of course, the Third Child knew nothing of this, but that didn't change that the only ostensible reason for his tears was the simple fact that she was... not damaged, and that he was looking at her in a way that only one person had ever looked at her before... as if she were something _precious._

Just like the commander... and yet, _not_ like him.

The elder Ikari had created her and given her a purpose, but his son didn't have any _reason_ to worry about her, nor did he derive any benefit from her remaining intact...

Rei was almost a little shocked about this.

She felt reminded of the day he had taken her into his arms, so firm yet dilligent, and not cold at all, so very, very different from the metal floor of the umbilical bridge, handling her with great care, like her torn, malfunctioning body was something of unspeakable value.

At the moment, she had been far too preoccupied with the pain that filled her body and the possible task at hand to bother with less relevant sensations, but when she looked back, she hadn't been able to think of a reason back then, either...

And maybe that was why she had spent the empty moments of her days unwaveringly gazing at his back, from the very next moment she was wheeled past him in the sickbay hallway up to when she had watched him at the depart to his first confrontation with the sixth angel from the walkway near the walls of the launchpad room. Maybe that was why she had volunteered to alert hm of the penultimate angel's attack, or why she had waited in front of his sickroom instead of just making her way there once he was reported to have regained consciousness – but she hadn't had any other tasks scheduled for his time, so she couldn't be sure.

What she _was_ already sure of, however, was that this had to be a kind of bond she was not yet familiar with, one that would unavoidably shape them both however subtly and soon be another voice in the choir of her reasons for being where she was, already more so than others by simple virtue of having extended her existence or at very least spared her further downtime.

He had worried for her, and that... touched her.

So she showed it to him.

The beautiful, warm smile she reserved for a very select group of melancholy men with midnight blue eyes that had saved her life, and for whom she would be willing to give her own at any time, without a moment's hesitation.

Shinji could barely believe that she was actually smiling, at him, no less, and _what_ a smile it was!

Thin and tentative, as if she wasn't quite sure if she was doing it right, but the expression in her eyes was proof that it genuine and heartfelt as anything could ever be.

It tinted his cheeks with the slightest glow of pink, and left him no choice but to return it tenderly. He offered his hand and the discolored patches in the rubber of his plug suit that had been left by the heat on his palm, and a bit hesitant and first but somehow still very deliberate, she offered hers in return.

As they sat in the darkness of entry plug, holding hands amidst the molten landscape, half sitting in a pool of LCL with the silvery gleam of the midnight moon high above even the towering figures of their Evangelions, Shinji knew in spite of all the strenuous ordeals he had been forced to endure today, this day would always remain a very important and even fond memory for him, one that could never be replaced.

* * *

><p>(1) It seems there has been an unexpected rush of followers since I posted the last chapter. Thanks, everyone. *blushes sheepishly*<p>

(2) Sorry, new computer, new keyboard, I seem to need to press these new keys a bit harder. So I'd like to apologize for any random missing letters that the spell checker didn't find.

(3) Yes, that title is shamelessly stolen from a certain Naruto-Chapter, I'm certain Hinata wouldn't mind. *waves Hinata flag* XD Expect a chapter called "The gap between our power", too, although with somewhat less deadly sibling-rivalry and no actual siblings.

(4) One of the things that was important for me in this chapter was establishing the primary "seeds" of the various aspects of "how Shinji perceives Rei" so that I can work on the individual threads from now on. First there is Rei as a confidante, who would be useless as such if she didn't bluntly say the truth to his face, but Rei's also a person who creates this space where she doesn't judge... which is, of course, in some ways entwined with/the basis of the next aspect, that is his perception of Rei as a stronger person who impresses him and... makes him want to measure up(See title. You could say that they all ultimately appeal to different, mutually exclusive sides/desires, but if you were to look for a common denominator between Misato, Asuka, Rei and Kaworu, it would be the ability to devote themselves completely. There's a too much for everything, and at least the girls fall under it, but of course, Shinji is seeing this from a position of humans generally wanting what they don't have, or think they don't have, like a naturally thin person telling someone with a tendency towards chubbiness, "I'd like to have _your_ problems!", but more constructively.), and there's certainly, on the other side, protectiveness and a feeling of being needed, but – and that's the harder part to write and not get wrong – not this blunt, primal "Caveman protect little female!" thing, but a mix born from "compassion in a world that can't afford it", which is fairly characteristic for him, and, at this point of Shinji's journey easily slides into naivety, but could be tempered into something awesomer if he doesn't throw it away, and this feeling that for once in in his life, there might be something where his presence might acually make a bit o a difference, _any_ difference, tiny as it may be. Fascination/mesmerized-ness is still there, of course, and was already beaten to death in the last chapter, and in some ways you could call it the cheapest aspect ("Duh, an unexplained weird girl with weird looks and stuff"), but it needs to be there for the... integration of everything. Anno once discribed love as "the motion of the spirit towards something it doesn't understand", and while one doesn't have to agree with that as all-encompassing , hm...What bugs me is that he doesn't specify if that motion is because, or inspite of the lack of understanding – Personally, I find the former too narrow(not encompassing things that are clearly love), the latter to wide(possibly including subsets that I would call not love), but that may be an actual difference in opinion and not a definition problem. But wether the definition is complete, I think both categories are definitely a thing, and I tried to include them here, both the deep fascination and the "running through a minefield to get to something good" You see a bit of that in most relationships in EVA, I think. It was even more important for me to show that... Rei was 'staring back'/taking an interest too from the other side, not being 'conquered'... while still keeping it subtler than some cheesy love at first sight thing, one of the impressive things of how this was handled in EVA was that you Shinji did NOT magically get her by walking on her like it so often happens in other anime (Although I do find naked embarrassed people as funny as the next person; It's the forcedness that is – at times – a problem.), but had to face a monster that terrified the shit out of him and pay some actual attention to what she says. The experience that IS technically possible to win over someone who was initially more hostile or at least apathetic ("hope that people can understand each other") is also important for Shinji's progression here. She was just supposed to have been sort of distantly curious before, taking into account that she probably had relatively few other "personal wishes" to act on in the less strictly defined parts of her rountine, with the latent empathy to the fact that he got nearly barbecued drowning out the previous annoyance. Rei II, as far as I have not completely misunderstood her, is simply not the grudge-keeping kind; It doesn't have to do specifically with Shinji at this point. Argh. TL;DR: This is important to me and I really, really hope I didn't screw this up somehow, especially not in some twillightey-looking way.

(5) I inserted parts of the "Second Impact Explanation" from episode 7 here, mainly because I thought it fit well. Revisiting the "Lillith explanation scene" after Q got me pretty emotional, but not necessarily in the ways I expected. Unbeknownst to either of them, poor Shinji's situation _was_, very much, someone's directed, conscious decision, _especially_ Rebuild!Shinji. Of course, this is a "prophetic first look" in more ways than one, and while we never get a too specific statement from him, him finding Lillith herself eldritch and yucky is... expected. You may see this as a contrast of sort to the Rei bits or part of her introduction if you want, or not. The main gist is basically that that scary thing in the basement is gonna be very important later, in ways that might make you see it differently, and not just because it does that in the base material/in contexts specific to this fic.

(6) The original version of the battle had these crossing beams. I really, really wanted to have it in this fic, too. Apart from that detail, I mostly followed Rebuild. In any case, I must admit that this is one of my favorite battles in either continuity. It probably shows.

(7) At this point, we will leave the two lovebirds alone and end the chapter so our protagonists can continue holding hands, smiling and being all sorts of cute in private XD The story will soon be continued in Chapter 15: [Hope]: After proving himself on the summit of the Futagoyama, and even possibly aquiring a new friend on the way, Shinji must decide what he will do from now on, while everyday life with Misato (and the non-trivial drawbacks thereof) assert themselves all around him, as does the hive of whirring and plotting that is NERV, and the higher levels of maslow's pyramid. And so, Shinji's acclimatization period draws to a close...


	16. 15: Hope

**15: [Hope]**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Nodody knows who I really am<strong>_

_I've never felt this empty before_

_And if I ever need someone to come along_

_Who's gonna comfort me_

_And keep me strong_

**_We are all rowing in the boat of fate_**

_The waves keep on comming and we can't escape_

_But if we ever get lost on our way_

_The waves will guide you through another day_

__-Rie Fu, 'Life is like a boat'__

* * *

><p>"Very well. This debriefing is concluded."<p>

"In spite of all adverse conditions, the outcome of this operation has been largely satisfying." Subcomander Fuyutsuki appended to his superior's laconic final summary. "If you don't mind, we will add a mention of your exceptional services in the planning and execution of this mission to your personnel file, Captain Katsuragi."

"Thank you, Sir." Misato replied curtly, standing upright across her superior's in their spacious office. "Alright then." Fuyutsuki continued. "The duties of cleanup, data evaluation and determining the extent of collateral damage will be the dubious pleasure of the technical division. You are dismissed."

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

><p>As soon as the office door closed behind her, Misato allowed herself to drop the 'professional poker face' and surrendered to a hearty yawn.<p>

It had to be about two in the morning by now... at the very least.

But she guessed she could be worse off – Ritsuko, Aoba and the others could probably count themselves lucky if they even got to _look_ at a bed before dawn.

Misato was fortunate enough to belong to the operations division, which, as the name suggested, had only so much to do once the operation was completed.

The only task she still had ahead of her was to pick up the pilots from NERV's sickbay, where they should have been given a thorough checkup by now – only a routine measure, since they had both seemed mostly unharmed when they had been been retrieved – curiously, from one and the same entry plug.

Indeed, she found both of them already waiting on a bench in the hallway just outside the examination room, where a visibly tired physician explained to her that neither of them had sustained any actual, physical damage, and the commander was already informed. The First Child in particular had apparently gotten very lucky due to the combined factors of her relatively moderate synch ratio and her swift removal from her half-molten EVA.

At last, the man departed into the well overdue end of his shift, leaving it to Misato to remove the kids from his hallway.

Both of them were still in their plug suits, but when she threw them a closer look, she received an answer to a question that had been swirling around in her head for most of the debriefing – so _that's_ where the commander's uniform jacket got to. He must have draped it over Rei's body at some point between her arrival at headquarters and their meeting itself.

The small girl could easily have disappeared into this piece of clothing, meant for a grown man of considerable stature.

For an instant, Misato could have sworn to have glimpsed a thin smile on her lips.

Shinji had been silently observing her until now, but he swiftly turned to face his guardian when he noticed that she was finally walking over to them.

"Shinji? Rei?"

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"As far as I've heard, the both of you should be okay, given a bit of rest. It's pretty late anyway. Take a shower and go home. I've arranged for you to be excused from any and all experiments for tomorrow – and obviously, school as well.

Shinji-kun, can you wait for me at gate number two?"

"Yes."

* * *

><p>Now, at least two of the far too numerous doors in the pilot's shower room were being used – The doors did cover the most necessary and could be used to drape clothes over them so that you could technically leave your individual shower cubicle fully clothed, but Shinji would still have preferred to have a little more than a thin divider between himself and the next naked girl.<p>

Theoretically, it could have been argued that there was nothing to her that Shinji hadn't seen yet, but that did very little to mitigate the inherent awkwardness of the situation.

Shinji had not exchanged particularly many words with her since the incident in the entry plug, but that as because there was no need for them – the silence had been one of understanding.

But then, his father had shown up at the infirmary.

At that point, Shinji had been sitting on a treatment couch with his plug suit removed down to his waist so the physician in charge could attach some electrodes to his upper body to measure something he didn't quite understand, and since the opposite side of the room contained a person of the opposite sex – Rei, to be exact – waiting for a similar procedure to be performed on her, a foldable divider made of thick paper had been used to separate the couch in question from the rest of the room, so that Shinji could only discern her silhoutte from where he was sitting – and that of his father, once he arrived.

After inquiring about the estimated usability of the pilots and in return received his answer through the folding screen, he turned to Rei and her alone to ask her about the battle.

Rei reported the events in a neutral, businesslike fashion, barely saying more than that the first shot had missed, that he had been put in charge of the defense, and that the target had been annihilated in the end.

Her heroic act of standing in the way of the angel's particle beam which she had eventually blocked with EVA 00's own body wasn't even deemed worth mentioning.

The commander's only comment on her brief resume was a curt "Good.", after which he remarked that it was also fortunate that she had remained unhurt.

Rei remarked that this was not extraordinary considering that the Third Child had quickly retrieved her from her Evangelion.

Shinji himself would have given a lot to be able to see their expressions right now, his mind racing with questions of what she might answer if his father should inquire further.

- but ultimately, all of that worrying was for naught when the elder Ikari's reaction turned out to be disappointingly terse:

"I see."

After that, he commented on how Rei was still drenched in LCL and inquired whether she wasn't cold.

When Shinji, now fully back in his plug suit because he didn't really have any other clothing at his disposition right now, was finally allowed to emerge from behind the folding screen to inform Rei that it was her turn now, he found the commander, who was already about to leave, one step away from the door frame.

The older man actually stopped and turned around to face his son – yet the words of praise that Shinji had naively expected for a second never came. All Ikari did was to look his son directly in the eyes, with a stare that could have drilled its way straight through his skull and broken through on the other side, before he turned and left without leaving behind a single word.

But when Shinji finally went to address Rei, he found her wrapped in a black jacket with golden border strips and the occasional green ornament – his father's uniform jacket.

Any uninformed outsider observing this scene might have easily mistaken him for _Rei_'s father.

Shinji hadn't known what to feel, and this hadn't changed by the time his thoughts were called back to the present, ironically by Rei herself.

She was done showering and – this time, fortunately, orderly packaged into her school uniform – left her cubicle, carrying both her plug suit and her towel under her arm.

She was probably going to leave now – so, it naturally followed that he was supposed to say something if he wanted the shrinking of distance that had taken place between them this night to be a permanent one. Somehow he had expected that it would get significantly easier to talk to her now that they had both saved each other's lives, but the real world didn't follow dynamics as simple as 'breaking the ice' or 'earning a relationship upgrade'.

Despite himself, he forced a shaky little "A-Ayanami...!" out of his throat.

She neither turned around nor made any other efforts to look in his direction, but that she stopped just where she had been standing right then established beyond doubt that she was listening – and he suddenly realized that he was expected to answer now, but had never thought about _what_ exactly he was going to say.

His mouth was already opened in the preemptive motions of this maneuver, but no words would come out.

Rei just kept standing there, giving him no outward signs of any kind indicating whether she was getting impatient, or just expecting his next words, which either way defaulted to the conclusion that he was currently _making_ her wait.

He had to say something... at least something simple.

"Uhm, good night."

Rei didn't answer.

Just as Shinji was wondering just where his hapless attempt fell on a scale between 'pretty awkward' and 'absolutely ridiculous', she set herself back into motion – did he just confuse her just now, or had she simply tired of standing round waiting for him to form coherent sentences?

At least, Shinji would leave this room educated about the dozens of light years between him and an understanding of this girl: Just as she reached the threshold, she paused again.

"See you later."

Three simple quiet words that weren't even spoken with particularly much emotion, but to Shinji, they held a wealth of meaning:

She had said 'see you later', not 'farewell'.

This time, her parting words didn't fill Shinji with this unmeasurable sad feeling that they would never meet again, but with some sort of unfamiliar warmth fueled by the certainty that this girl would continue to walk through her life in a slightly different way from now, that the events of this night had actually... mattered.

It ignited a hope within him that he never dared to feel before and still wouldn't dare to speak out loud: The thought that he could really make a difference in someone's personal world, that this place wouldn't simply go back to the way he left it if he were to vanish from it the next day.

"Yes... see you later, Ayanami!"

It was true.

He _would_ see her again. He might have told Misato that he was only going to pilot the EVA 'just this once', but right now, he didn't feel an all too strong urge to leave, so he decided to just postpone those thoughts indefinitely and to keep going about his days without mentioning it – at least, for now.

He would stay and... give this all a try.

After all, he had just managed to get a little bit closer to the girl to whom his father readily showed that other side of himself... so maybe someday, some_how, _he, too, might find a way to become a part of _his_ personal world as well.

* * *

><p>Still in deep thought, and, to be honest, finding his thinking facilities increasingly impaired by creeping fog of fatigue, Shinji found himself in the passenger seat of Misato's car after the two of them had finally departed on their drive home, absent-mindedly observing the limited strips of world which either the various street lights or the small blue car's headlights protected from total darkness.<p>

Misato attempted to strike up a conversation.

"Poor thing! You're probably just about to pass out from exhaustion! Don't worry, we'll be home in just a few minutes, and then we can all finally indulge our beauty sleep! We've really earned it, haven't we?"

Shinji didn't really show much of a reaction, being far too preoccupied with his brooding on the events of today.

"No, for real, you have all the reasons to be proud of what you did today. You're a proper hero!" she assured in a light, playful tone of voice, smiling in the hope that he would at least look her reflection on the window in the eye.

Accepting that Shinji was unlikely to be moved by great displays of enthusiasm, Misato toned it down a bit.

"But seriously. Everyone here knows that you were very brave today, and that none of us would be here anymore if it wasn't for you. You have saved us all. You just need to have a little more faith in yourself. I'm certain that even your father must be proud of you for what you did."

"That's what I'd really like to believe, but..."

"But...?"

"I... I just don't want to talk about it right now, okay?"

For how could he do that if he wasn't even sure _what_ to think of all this yet.

He just... would have to take his time to process all this.

* * *

><p>As soon as he reached his room, Shinji let himself sink straight into his bed, following gravity like a falling stone – that he had even managed to change into some more loose-fitting clothes on the way was no less than a miracle.<p>

He immediately fell into a deep and dreamless slumber, from which he didn't wake until the rays of the late midday sun had been caressing his face for a long time, finally reaching the precise angle needed for their full brightness to permeate his eyelids.

Tentatively beginning to move, he started out covering hairline with his forearm, casting a pleasant shadow over the rest of his face.

Only now did he open his eyes the slightest bit, initially directing them towards the ceiling.

He was wholly unaccustomed to be surrounded by such brightness at his time of awakening – instead, the Third Child was used to the pale color palette of the matutinal crepuscule, and this amount of light was more likely to summon up uninvited memories of his 'favorite' hospital room than to provide any sort of enjoyable experience. Contrary to the common reputation of his age group, Shinji could count all the times he had slept in this late in his life so far on a single hand, probably because he usually went to bed a lot earlier – He actually tended more towards the opposite problem of not really knowing how to fill the remaining hours until nightfall – most of the time, he had just spend this part of the day staring at the ceiling with his headphones plugged in, hoping to drown out at least the majority of the gloomy thoughts festering in the unoccupied thought space.

But this day was still far from it's overly drawn-out farewell, so Shinji stretched his limbs, tentatively at first, and ultimately decided to leave his room, his eyes still holding a faraway look as he stepped into the kitchen.

There was no trace of Misato. It was only at the second glance that he caught sight of the small piece of paper pinned to the fridge by a tiny magnet, containing an explanation in astonishingly scrawly handwriting: She had gone to work to take care of the battle's paperwork-related aftermath, complete with a simplistic drawing that depicted her swingin around a little origami sword in the right corner of the note.

If you knew her in your everyday life, it was hard not to doubt whether the word 'serious' was even part of her vocabulary – It was hard to believe that just yesterday (or technically, earlier this morning), she had earner herself a positive mention for extraordinary strategic creativity in the final operations report.

Soon, Shinji was forced to amend his conclusion, for the note was not even the only thing Misato had left behind for him to deal with – Apparently, she had treated herself to a package of microwave sushi before departing to NERV HQ, which resulted in the packaging, the plate she used and all the empty sauce pouches and soya sauce stains strewn across the table in addition to everything else on it – the thought of getting rid of the remainders of yesterday's curry nightmare did not even seemed to have occurred to her, the most she had done was push it out of the way a bit. All of it was still where it had been left, including Misato's now empty instant soup bowl.

The amount of accumulated used chopsticks left on the table would have easily sufficed to play jackstraws with.

Shinji needed a while to pause and think before he could attribute the oldest layer of encrusted old plates to their dinner with Ritsuko-san two days ago – Such much had happened...

The young EVA pilot wondered how Misato could possibly not mind all this chaos in the slightest – Whenever he mentioned it to her he'd get rewarded with a joke about how she just happened to be very busy, and how he was fussier than a purebred french poodle with a ridiculous hairstyle, usually coupled with a request to clean the mess up himself.

Since he didn't have anything better to do, Shinji started to do just that – technically, Misato was supposed to look after _him_, but at times he couldn't shake off the impression that it was exactly the other way around, especially since he had ended up doing nearly all of the housekeeping lately.

Today in particular, though, he wouldn't have minded to find an even larger pile of dirty dishes, since he found himself confronted with his initial problem of not knowing what else to occupy himself with.

Normally, he would be at school right now, and there was always something strange about being in a place that was usual abandoned at this time of the day, like being in a school building at night... then again, comparing this apartment to some classic horror story setup might be a bit of a stretch, as he was swiftly reminded when the resident penguin suddenly waddled out of his designated fridge and greeted him with a not entirely pleased "Waaak!"

More than the bird himself, Shinji found the notion of having already gotten pretty used to the strange animal somewhat startling.

"Good morning, Pen-Pen!" he greeted.

"Waaak!" came the reply.

Shinji chose to interpret this as a good sigh.

The hot springs penguin then pointed one of his... wings? Arms? (Shinji had no idea wether there was any establishes naming convention for how to refer to a flightless bird's front limbs) at his feeding dish, which _was_ sufficiently filled, but the Third Child could not really fault his feathered flatmate for eschewing the formless mass that his mistress had gifted him with.

Shinji took pity on the bird and opened him a can of sardines.

It wasn't much of a stretch to interpret the sound that followed before Misato's pet went to greedily devour it's lunch as a gesture of gratitude.

The boy toyed with the thought of having lunch as well, but couldn't summon up anything resembling proper hunger, and thus he was still out of ways to chase away the time.

He guessed that Touji and Kensuke would probably have been overjoyed if they were the ones getting a day off, but Shinji couldn't really think of anything to do with it.

For a moment he wondered what Ayanami might be doing right now.

She had a day off as well, but he couldn't think of many things that could be done in that stark, empty apartment room – maybe she was reading right now, after all, that was what she did to pass the time when she had waited for him to regain consciousness, and he culd also recall a pile of complicated-looking books on her dresser.

Shinji considered listening to some music, but ultimately settled on taking care of the homework he hadn't been able to work on yesterday, since he had been busy saving humanity.

The very idea that he was able to come up with a serious, non-ironic sentence containing both the words 'homework' and 'saving humanity' that nonetheless accurately reflected his life was a telltale sigh of just how crazy his life had managed to become in so little time.

Still, he could no longer rightfully call himself a complete stranger to this mad, ludicrous world of EVAs, angels, giant underground complexes and blue haired girls who didn't mind being seen naked. Since his arrival, he had formed many new bonds, lived through many new experiences and maybe even made a bit of an unique difference to the fate of this place and its people – yet, at the same time, the recent battles had taught him anew what this place made apparent over and over again: That he might never really get used to this place and is seemingly endless repertoire of new, disturbing surprises.

After the homework was taken care of, it occurred to him to take a look at the apartment's veranda. He knew there was one, but he'd always found it too embarrassing to actually ask to see it or what it looked like. It seemed silly to engage a conversation with Misato just to satisfy a passing whim of curiosity – Since she had said that this was supposed to be his home now and everything in here was at his disposal, he figured that it should be fine if he went and checked it out, but he still felt nervous at the mere thought that he would do something 'without her knowledge'. When he did open the door, the veranda turned out to be fairly large, with only a few pieces of cheap, plastic lawn furniture to adorn it – from the looks of it, this place hadn't seen much use in the time Misato spent living here, everything was covered with a gray layer of dust.

Shinji stopped to send a look downwards to the city. The view was nice, but this apartment was pretty far up, so he tried not to look down all too directly lest his not inconsiderable fear of heights assert itself.

There was one undeniable perk to this place, though – it was pleasantly calm so far above the streets; the noises of the city only reached these heights in a substantially dampened form, if at all.

Actually, the more the Third Child considered it, the more this seemed like the ideal place for- until now, he simply hadn't felt like it, or had been to embarrassed to ask Misato about it or do it where she would notice, she was bound to comment on it in some way that would just end up fueling his awkwardness and insecurity about the whole thing, but now, on the day after his third battle in EVA 01, he chose to finally unwrap his old Cello, and take possession of a little bit of living space by designating it as his very own practice corner, a figurative 'secret garden' no one else knew about.

With great care, he lifted his instrument out of its box, where it had remained untouched in a corner of his room until now, grabbed himself one of the chairs and prepared the music stand he kept in the same box, before finally taking his place on the chair.

Much like he expected, he was terribly out of practice.

In some ways, his dealings with this musical instrument were similar to his career as an EVA pilot – sometimes he seriously wondered why he even bothered with either of these things.

But at last for right now, he had decided to just continue for a while... with both of them.

* * *

><p>"...I am once again in your debt."<p>

"And you'll hardly be able to pay me back! As for the material they demanded under the Freedom of Information act, I've had the people in charge black out the relevant parts of the documents. Their lawyers are already preparing a formal complaint to the government, but of course, that will be useless. What about the project itself? Anything else you want me to take care of?"

"Judging by the material you have sent me, that won't be necessary. Proceed as planned."

"Alright! I'll go pick up your little packages then!"

"Very well. We will discuss further proceedings in person."

Once his interlocutor had hung up the phone, Ikari folded his own back together and swiftly put it away, after which he folded his hands into each other like he typically did and rested his chin on them.

Everything was going according to plan.

He didn't even bother to look up when he heard the door of his office sliding open – The person who just stepped inside personally made sure to bring herself into his field of vision and occupy as much of his field of vision as she could. It was Dr. Akagi, although not in the attire she commonly wore around the base. Gone were the blue top with its large pull ring and her white lab coat, replaced by a black mini dress so tight that one might wonder why the pieces of fabric that formed it didn't just burst apart.

She was even more tarted up than usual, her face thoroughly smeared with make-up that displayed her lips in an intrusive, coral red, bolstering their volume through several optical tricks and imbuing then with a lifeless, mineral shimmer of ruby.

Not even her excessively applied, choking cloud of perfume could mask the stench of cigarettes that clung to her.

Even the hair was obviously fake.

Repulsive.

Sometimes, very rarely, Ikari distantly wondered if anything about this woman was real at all, but that was the most thought he would ever spend on her.

This woman, if she could still be referred as such, was nothing but the means to an end – She might have some illusions about being a replacement's replacement, but to do any replacement, she would have needed to have some vague resemblance to the real thing.

Yes, she might have had the same, rather rare eye color, general hair length and skin color, but none of these things were what he really loved about Yui.

This whore was just as fake and disgusting on the inside as she was in terms of appearance, as much as she might hide her true self behind a mask of false congeniality – but when he looked at himself, he had to concede that he had to right to push her away from himself – that same, difficult and ugly nature made it an untenable risk to openly scorn her, and as a punishment he had chosen himself, she was probably just what she deserved.

He couldn't fathom what this woman (or her mother) had been looking for when they threw themselves on him – He had nothing to give them, he swore he couldn't fix them, and neither did he have any interest in doing so, nor was there anything about them he could possibly desire.

This wasn't even about sating some sort of lowly drive, merely the maintenance of an instrument whose rebellion would be inconvenient to his plans right now – Every time he was made to look at her face, he longed for the day he would cast off this filthy, inconvenient body and meet his beloved in the light, just as she remembered him from the day of their parting.

That someone like Yui had even wound up anywhere near him in the first place... had to have been some great mishap of fate, remedied just as quickly as it had taken place, like a random quantum fluctuation in the vacuum.

That woman walked over to his desk and leaned forward, as if to place her breasts right around his face.

"...did you take care of the business concerning that government project?" he asked, dryly.

"Oh yes... but let's forget about all that for a while. You're going to that budget conference tomorrow, aren't you? I will miss you terribly, although some fresh air will probably do you good. You haven't been to the surface for ages!"

She laughed.

Her deep, full-bodied laughter was just as fake as the seductive tone she had tucked onto her words – she was just about as arousing as a plastic brick with the color chipping off.

That is, as far as he could even still tell such a thing. He had only ever had eyes for _one_ woman, and after years of letting his unending work consume all his life, feelings and thoughts and the desensitizing presence of this laughable, fake woman and others like her, he was seldom moved beyond this all-encompassing numbness.

He didn't say anything.

She was quick to hide her disappointment.

"Well, in any case... You'll surely want a little bit of..._relaxation_ before you depart on this tiresome business trip, right?"

"No."

She looked at him in perturbation.

"Alright. I know what you mean. Come here."

He stopped halfheartedly extending his arms towards her the very instant he heard his phone ring.

She might as well have ceased to exist in that same moment.

A swift glance at the cellphone's screen told him who was calling.

As unlikely as it may seem, he _did_ recognize his son's private number – and _because _he recognized it, he banished his phone into the depths of a drawer and let it ring to its heart's content.

"Who was that?" the fake blonde asked.

"Unimportant. Let's get this over with, Fuyutsuki will be expecting me in laboratory five in about half an hour." he answered without the slightest hint of passion.

Akagi merely donned a thin, sinister smile.

"Oh, you won't believe... all the things that can be done in just half an hour..."

* * *

><p>While the empty, usually deathly silent office filled with noise, the Katsuragi residence was enveloped by an uncharacteristic silence – Shinji heard proof of Misato's return a few minutes ago, but hadn't made himself noticeable, hoping that she would conclude that he was already asleep and try to keep quiet, which was just what he wanted.<p>

He was, in fact, situated on his bed, although he was sitting on it more than he was lying in it, his mobile phone still folded in his hand.

He would really like to believe what Misato told him in her attempts to cheer him up, but...

"I knew you wouldn't pick up, father..."

After this, Shinji felt no more desire to talk or otherwise interact with anyone before this day was over, nor even to lift as much as a finger for any solitary activity, so he resolved to to what Misato already thought he was doing and hid away beneath his blanket.

* * *

><p>This night, Shinji once again encountered that dream.<p>

By now, he was already used to this: The sounds of the ocean, the fine white sand beneath his palms, the feeling of his drenched clothes sticking to his body – He was beginning to dread it as much as the ceiling of his designated room at NERV's overly bright sickbay.

Why was he here?

That question haunted him by night as much as by day, even if 'here' didn't necessarily refer to the same things at both times. He was no longer just wondering what had landed him here in the particular universe of this dream, but rather why he was even having these dreams, why he had to find himself back in this cold and empty place all over again every time he closed his eyes for too long, why some part of his subconscious seemed to insist on telling him subtle variations on the same story over and over again, like some sort of mantra that he mustn't forget if he wanted to survive.

He just could not fathom it.

Perhaps he should talk to someone about this – but it wasn't like these visions were significantly influencing his daily life, or disturbing him enough to disturb someone else over it... that aside, this whole thing was madness. He didn't know whether he even _wanted _anyone to know about this, heaven knew what this would make them think about him.

He just wanted these dreams to stop and leave him in peace so he didn't have to think about them anymore – and so he wouldn't have to endure this overwhelming, unfiltered sense of loneliness that inexplicably assaulted him whenever he found himself marooned in this abominable place...

The loneliness and pain of a thousand and one lives, the infinite emptiness...All of it came too him, too diffuse, and too cruel to tell from where exactly, or just why he had to suffer like this.

But none of that lament would do him any good, so Shinji decided to try opening his eyes in the hope that he might be able to do or trigger something to make this dream stop.

Above him, the sky stretched out like an infinite velvet canopy, crossed by a lone streak of crimson.

It had no borders, no frame – Shinji looked up and saw only emptiness.

He couldn't stand it.

Slowly, the Third Child turned his head to the side, to where the shoreline was, and in the waters lay an enormous, detached hand the size of a mountain range, gigantic enough to utterly dwarf the petrified, cross-shaped Evangelions, not to mention Shinji himself.

The ocean went on endlessly until the horizon, not revealing anything of what lay beneath its opaque surface – by now, Shinji knew all of this by heart.

It was then, however, when he glimpsed something he had never encountered in any of these visions before: Another person.

She simply stood there, all alone, in her school uniform, like a ghostly apparition that refused to become part of the background and its red lighting, standing on the surface of the water like a deity, several meters away from the land.

Ayanami Rei.

At least, she looked like her.

The pale skin, the short, blue hair – who else could she be?

The sight sent a decuman shiver, but also a subtle sprinkling of deep sadness through his body.

The Third Child couldn't explain it.

No matter how long he looked at her, no sense of recognition would come.

He just stared at the impossibility before him, unable to say a word, until she was no longer there.

He couldn't have said whether he had blinked or something, but just as he was about to call out her name, she disappeared without a trace, like a shadow at nightfall, like she was never there to begin with, leaving him to question whether she had been a figment of his imagination, his desperation for some kind of life to show itself before him.

Aggrieved, he allowed his eyes that had been opened wide until now to relax and narrow, and fill with tears.

Of course he was alone here.

He had _always_ been alone here, and although he couldn't name the reasons, he couldn't shake off the impression that this was just what he deserved, a just punishment, and the worst there could be, for there was no more desperate wish inside his thoughts than the plea for someone else to be with him.

Someone he could hold on to, someone who could take his hand explain everything to him, someone who could make it all make sense with her soothing words, and show him that he wasn't alone... Someone with the strength to believe that there was a way out of this empty, desolate world, who could tell him what to _do... _Someone warm... and soft...

Someone... he could depend on.

And if someone had read his thoughts, he felt a warm, soft hand gripping his own in that very instant, and an indescribable feeling of safety and bottomless joy.

There was something _real _and _alive _he could hold on and cling to...

And the tears spilled forth anew, from a vessel filled to brink and waiting to overflow from the slightest additional excitation.

How long had it been since the last time he had felt the sensation of human warmth on his skin? How many eternities had he spent here, in this desolate place, without even the slightest shred of company?

He returned the tender gesture and gripped the hand like he would never let go.

And it was only now, with that tension relieved, that he finally noticed just what he had been staring past for his line of sight to reach the red ocean.

This couldn't be her, could it? It was far too crazy to be true, too much of a coincidence...

Something told him that he should never have seen her again, a wild flurry of shouts, tears, her necklace and the taste of her blood on his deflowered lips.

And still, there she was, tangible before him, the one person in the world he wanted to see most of all.

It was impossible, and yet, undeniable: The drenched, dark red fabric of her torn mini dress, that insufficiently concealed the location of her nipples and tightly clung to the triangle formed by her thighs; The mature, feminine shapes of her body and the attractive tan of her skin which her torn clothes revealed plenty of, including part of her scar that went on beyond the upper remainders of her dress and invited to rip the last shreds of it away to follow along its path, back to the old story whose red thread connected them both; White bandages that the hands of god seemed to have wrapped around her midsection and one of her upper arms, her long, black hair flowing over the ground, and last but not least, the tired, but confident smile on her well-meaning face.

Misato.

Shinji, who had sat up to get a better look at her, trembled and sobbed at the realization.

It was beyond his capabilities to get his surging emotions back under control, and he couldn't even say why.

The young EVA-pilot had never been good with this type of situation, but even if he couldn't remember _why_ he couldn't form a coherent sentence right now, he couldn't believe that she was really here.

What was she even doing here?

Why was she here... _with him_, in this dark and lifeless world _he_ had created even though she had given everything to prevent exactly this.

He didn't deserve this... He didn't deserve it, and he didn't understand it either. She should hate him right now – but she didn't, she was smiling, picking herself off the ground and sitting up while he observed every single motion of her body in disbelieving wonder, every swing of her hair, every shifting of her breasts, and her full, inviting lips which didn't take off their smile for one moment.

For some reason, he was holding her necklace in her his left hand, and holding out in her direction, trembling as he waited to be judged.

"F-Forgive me, Misato-san... Please don't hate me..."

Shinji averted his eyes.

He had wanted to say something, at first, some explanation, or justification, but every string of words he could possibly think of fell short of his deeds, and so he turned back to what he knew he could say, what he had had to say so, so often, repeating himself like an old fool.

"Forgive me, please... I'm so, so sorry..."

But she gripped his hands with both of hers without a moment's doubt or hesitation, just squeezing it without letting go instead of taking the necklace from it.

"It's alright."

He stared at her in shock, like the heavens and the earth had switched places. She didn't sound reluctantly appeasing or sarcastic at all, just sure of her words.

She let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his body, lovingly squeezing her form into the crevices and faults of his, burying her fingers in the wet fabric of his uniform shirt led by a final, ceremonial passion that was at least set free, now that they were no longer bound by any of the categories, barriers and lines of their positions, now that this war was over and with it the need for her to be his guardian, his superior, a fill-in for variety of things she'd never be, or anything else other than just another person under the same moonlight, offering her chest like a pillow for his wearied, tired face.

Shinji's own arms were still hanging downwards.

He was still staring forward at the piece of landscape framed by her breast and arm as if paralyzed, unable to process or explain any of this in any way.

"B-But Misato-san... I... I did... I am..."

"Hush now, Shinji-kun. It's alright now. It's all over.

You did well."

"But I- you wanted me to-"

"I just wanted you to make a decision, and you did.

I already told you that I don't care, as long as it was what you really wanted. If that is what we see here, then I'll have to respect that. I'm not perfect either, Shinji-kun, I've told you that before. I honestly don't know what I would have done in your place... Most likely, I wouldn't have found the right answer right away, either."

She pulled him even tighter to her own form.

"But you, you really did it. You made the right choice, for you, for me, for all of us. In spite of all that happened, despite all you said, you still chose life..."

She let go of him, then moved her hands to his shoulders, so that he had to take an upright position and show her his face.

He still couldn't bear to look at her directly.

"And do you know what this means?"

No answer.

Pulling his fingers tighter around the token she left him, he found the courage to look her in the face, more or less.

She leaned forward towards him.

"It means that you are very, very strong. You are a very, very special, very, very strong person. You should be _proud_ of yourself."

"But Misato-san... I... I did..."

"You did what you did because that was what you wanted. That's alright with me. I've already told you that, even back when you didn't want this to be true for fear of having to live with the consequences... You just wanted to, and no one can blame you for that, least of all me... but in the end, you went with the right path instead of the easy one, because _you_ didn't want it any other way... I don't think you ever really did something you didn't want... and I'm kind of envious of you for that, to be honest...

It was my job to show you the things you needed to do better, but the truth is that there were also many things for which I envied you..."

"M-Misato-san?"

"Shinji-kun?" she sweetly whispered into his ear. "Do you remember what I promised you the last time we met?"

He nodded cluelessly.

"You really earned it."

Then, she took him into her embrace.

She had said something about him making the 'right' choice, but when he looked at his surroundings, they didn't look like the result of anything going particularly right at all -and that still didn't tell him the slightest bit of what had actually happened for things to end up this way.

Still, this version of the dream had been almost...pleasant. He might just be telling himself things, but lately he felt like he had actually moved forward in his life... not only in his dreams...

* * *

><p>Once morning finally arrived, however, everyday life took little time to reassert itself with a vengeance, which was synonymous with Shinji being forced to do all the housework because a certain lady adamantly refused to be woken up until he finally gave up when he concluded that he might accidentally break down the door if he knocked on it any harder.<p>

Thus, he had just toasted himself some slices of bread for lack of alternatives, and supplied the resident penguin with some proper fish to eat. Sometimes, Shinji wondered how this woman (let alone her pet) had managed to survive until now.

It was only when both Shinji and PenPen were already eagerly consuming their meals when the alleged token adult in this house finally showed herself – In shorts, an open, loose cut vest of the same material which was probably supposed to form a set with the shorts, and a black sports bra, no less. She was standing in the door frame displaying a sort of cavewomanish pose, scratching herself beneath her breasts as if everything else weren't enough, and her hair also gave off the distinct impression of having come from some distant past before the invention of the hairbrush, or at least didn't seem to have met one today.

Shinji briefly showed symptoms of moderate shock, but they wore off rather quickly since such sights pretty much become part of his everyday life by now.

"Good morning.", he said, 'enthused'.

Reminiscent of a zombie, Misato walked over to the table, where she unabashedly yawned in the faces of her flatmates, and finally returned a somewhat marrowless "...morning." in Shinji's general direction.

Nevertheless, her usual enthusiasm returned very quickly once she got her hands on a nice, cool can of her favorite beverage and dumped a sizable amount of it straight into her throat.

The usual scream of joy, complete with tiny tears of bliss promptly followed:

"Ah, there's nothing like a cool beer in the morning to flush away your worries!", she shouted ecstatically. In the beginning, Shinji might have found this spectacle distantly fascinating in an intimidating way, but by now, it just made him doubt whether she was aware of her own age – To be honest, the alcohol content of her drink seemed to be the onl indicator here. If you had switched the beer can for a milk bottle, she would easily fit into the local kindergarten.

Shinji didn't really get how exactly beer was supposed to be particularly suited for the morning hours.

"Why don't you try drinking coffee instead?" he suggested, well-intentionedly.

- But his so-called 'guardian' didn't even take him seriously and protectively bend forward over her beer can while maintaining balance with the aid of her elbow.

"No, No! I'm patriotic, and and a typical Japanese breakfast traditionally consists of steamed rice, miso soup and a nice drink!"

"You mean _your_ typical breakfast." Shinji retorted, surprisingly open with his ostensible irritation. "Oh, and speaking of breakfast, do you remember whose turn it was actually supposed to be? It's not surprisingly that you're still single at your age!"

That hit its intended target straight in its center.

Misato's right eyebrow engaged in uncontrolled twitching.

"Are you implying that I'm _lazy?!_"

"A lazy slob. That's a pretty accurate description."

"_What_ did you say?" Misato replied, visibly irked.

Shinji considered his breakfast demonstratively finished at this point, and rose from his seat.

But in spite of all his complaints, he ended up donning an apron and taking care of all the dirty dishes by himself for the umpteenth time, not before having provided Misato with some slices of toasted bread of her own, which she seemed to interpret as an official license not to take any of his arguably valid objections seriously in the least, gave up her mostly symbolic gesture of properly closing her top after the first two buttons, and generally grinned at him as widely as it was possible with the aforementioned toast in her mouth.

"...And you're... really planning to show up at school today?"

"Of course!" Misato declared cheerfully, briefly removing the toast from her mouth to speak. "It's parent-teacher consultation day after all! This meeting could be important for your future!"

"But... don't you have work to do?" Shinji asked, partially to show his appreciation, but still probing around the apparent softness for the very same hard edges and uncrossable boundaries he had met with his father.

But Misato just tossed out some casual reassurance: "That's no problem! You're a part of my work, after all!"

"Part of-? ...I see." Shinji's mood appeared to have gone through a process similar to a falling vase on the spot.

Just now, he was concerning himself with the possibility of burdening her, and then, she had to go and let something like that slip out of her lips, just like that, like it was nothing...

And there he was, beginning to delude himself into thinking that there was something connecting them apart from the EVA, that this was different from the arrangement with his teacher...

Misato likewise noticed that this might not have been the wisest choice of words to calm him down, and paused her matutinal display for a guilty look aside – Until the doorbell chimed in as a welcome distraction that lead her to reach for the inter phone to provide the visitors waiting at the base of the tall apartment complex with a befitting reception and possibly, entrance.

"Oh, thank you for coming all this way!" she announced in her best cheery tone. "No problem, just wait a minute!"

Shinji, who had used the meantime to equip himself with a school bag, promptly turned around at the incoming threat of humiliation with a bright red face.

"Misato-san... Please don't open the door dressed like this... That would be very embarassing..." he begged.

"For you or for me?" she simply asked, crossing her arms and jokingly pushing her chest outward.

The crazy thing was that this retained a certain crude, arousing quality despite her unkempt state, causing Shinji to tun away _a fortiori_, his face glowing with a mix of overload and the realization that he'd actually been looking before common sense and annoyance reasserted themselves and intermingled with the newly refreshed memory of this morning's dream making it all worse.

Thankfully, the whole situation quickly dissolved itself when the bell on the apartment door rung.

Behind it were Touji and Kensuke.

Both were grinning like idiots and the former was carrying his school bag in a very...interesting fashion that involved wearing the strap around his head.

"GOOD MORNING, IKARI-KUN!" they called in unison, before synchronously turning around and peering into the apartment while holding on to the door frame. "HAVE A NICE DAY, MISATO-SAN!"

Shinji had barely managed to back out of the way, horrified about having to concede that he just completely failed to keep those two from glimpsing the 'imposing' sight of his half-naked guardian – but thankfully she had possessed at least enough common sense to hide away in the kitchen and show them no more than her unclothed arm as she waved to them while wishing them a nice day too – Paradoxically, this was more than enough to leave them staring after her in adoration and get a very impressed "Aaaaaaahhh...~~" out of them, much to Shinji's bewilderment. He couldn't deny that Misato was significantly attractive and liable to looking quite cool if you saw her on duty, but any initial awe he might have held quickly evaporated after spending a few days in her squalid apartment and getting himself drafted into being her personal char lady.

He just wanted to get the hell out of here before she got any _ideas _within earshot of his friends.

"Let's go already..."

By the time the three boys had left the building, Misato had taken a quick shower, wrapped herself in some green towels as an improvised and quite insufficient covering, grabbed another can of beer from the fridge, and opened it.

In spite of all the complaints she had to endure this morning, there was a genuine, serene smile on her face.

"Ironic, isn't it?" she quietly wondered to herself as she was gulping down another mouthful of beer. "You can tell that he's starting to really feel at home here when he honestly says what he doesn't like..."

She still remembered when he first stood before that doll with this meek, uncertain smile, asking whether he wouldn't be a bother – During their first proper meal together, he even came pretty close to hiding under the table! And cute as it may have been in such generally hilarious contexts, they way he seemed to just accept everything even when his real dissatisfaction with the state of affairs was painfully obvious could be downright creepy at times, it was just something she couldn't stand to see reflected at her.

Besides, him voicing the desire to have a specific degree of order and cleanliness here was a sure sigh that he had truly come to see this place as something of his own that he also deserved jurisdiction over, that he was beginning to feel more comfortable... which was what she had been trying to accomplish from the very beginning.

'Managing' Shinji may not have been as easy as she had initially expected it to be, but nonetheless, today was a good way on which she felt that she had ultimately been able to make genuine progress – and this meant that there might still be hope for this world.

Nonetheless, her temporary joy did not cloud her view of the very insurmountable-looking challenges looming in front of them all, be it the ever unannounced attacks of angelic juggernauts, or this serial killer – tomorrow morning, the newspaper headlines had in fact told of a new brand new case. There were claims of an entire pile of rotting bodies having turned up in an abandoned warehouse, apparently dragged there by the killer without this... liquification the reports had spoken of. This was getting more and more abstruse – one strange factor (like the strange ways of killing) might well be expected with the work of someone who was a crazy serial killer to begin with, a second (like this supposed piled-up collection of corpses) may be a coincidence that was bound to happen somewhere on this world, but when you added a third extreme oddity (like her having been told that this killer was supposedly already dead), it was obvious evidence of some sort of foul play.

But Misato had nothing tangible to build her suspicions on – Sure, that person, whoever they were, had attacked Shinji, but as far as she knew, it didn't seem like they explicitly sought him out, nor did she have anything to justify how any of this was related to her area of jurisdiction, or even NERV itself.

Misato sighed and picked up her phone.

"He's on his way to school. Guard him well.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Shinji was following closely after his friends, an expression of uncharacteristic bliss and serenity on his face.<p>

Embarrassing personal quarrels of the daily life aside... it was a beautiful feeling when others came to pick him up, to actually dedicate their time to him in such a way.

"So, _Shinji_, how are you today?"

"Uh, not too bad..." he answered with an uncertain smile, still not wholly used to Touji addressing him by his first name.

"Why do you ask?"

"Nothing. It's just that both you and Ayanami were absent from school yesterday. We were wondering if you get hurt or something."

"No, not at all.. it just got pretty late..."

"Well, in that case we've got nothing to worry about..."

"Soooo, onwards to the next point of interest! How was the battle?" Kensuke asked with sparkling little stars in his eyes.

"Uh, that was.. er, that went... like this..."

As far as his rather modest knowledge about strategy and technology allowed it, Shinji tried his best to explain the rough technical outlines of Operation Yashima, while avoiding the subject of his own participation in the progression of the actual battle, or even mentioning his state at the time, let alone the whole deal with his father... that was something he neither wanted to speak nor think about right now.

As usual Kensuke deemed it all impossibly cool, spewed ample praise for Misato's tactical genius (and her looks, although these weren't really related to the battle) and lamented that he didn't get the opportunity to participate in the battle as a fellow EVA pilot – Even if he had been very sparse with any descriptions of the most unpleasant experiences, it was a mystery to Shinji how someone could hear his story and not feel glad that they didn't have to go through this sort of thing themselves – one of the few things he was halfway comfortable describing was the terrific amount of molten rock the angel's attacks had left behind.

Touji's reactions to the account of the battle were more sensible, but in exchange, he was all the more enthused about singing the praises of Misato. Deciding not to go ount of his way to burst their bubble, Shinji simply gave them the answers they requested and left it to them to connect the dots in the most roundabout manner possible as they constructed themselves an idea of both being an EVA pilot and life with Misato that had fairly little in common with the truth.

"Either way, we knew you could do it! All of us did."

"I... I hardly deserve any credit for this. If it wasn't for the efforts of Misato-san and Ayanami, or even your support, there's no way I could have done this, and I still very nearly screwed it up..."

"No, no, there's no need for fake humility here!" Kensuke stated. "After all, you have now successfully rescues your very first distressed damsel! That's an important milestone in the career of any superhero... and just to hammer home how ridiculously lucky you are, she was none other than the girl of your dreams! Oh, if only I could be an EVA pilot... it must be nice when all the girls worship you like that..."

"I'm not a superhero... I'm not being worshiped... and Ayanami isn't 'the girl of my dreams'. It's not like that at all..."

"Oh really?" Kensuke didn't seem all too convinced. "If that's what you say, I'll just go on and believe you."

"So what was it like, after you saved her?" Touji asked. "Did you have to wait much until they retrieved you? Did you say something to her?"

Not feeling that this moment was something he could easily speak about, nor wanting to bring the unavoidable teasing on himself that would inevitable follow if he told those two that they had engaged in an activity for which he couldn't come up with any description other than 'holding hands', he decided on a simplified answer:

"Well, I guess she was grateful and happy about being saved. I mean, at least I think she was. She did smile, though, so-"

"What? For real? She actually _smiled?_"

"She can actually _do_ that?"

"Uh, sure... why wouldn't she?What's so strange about that..."

"Maybe because no one at school has _ever_ seen her do it?"

"Damn it Ikari, you're so lucky, you should go to jail for it! As if it wasn't enough to live under the roof of the gorgeous Misato-san and pilot an EVA, you also get to be one of the most popular guys in our glass, and even our inapproachable ice princess can't help but melt away under the influence of your charms..."

"Although I would still stick with Misato-san if I were in your place."

"It's... really nothing like that..."

* * *

><p>Nothing indeed.<p>

When he next laid eyes on Ayanami, it was yet another of these stray gazes across the classroom like countless others before it, they had almost become a standardized part of his average school day since his arrival in Tokyko-3, and like many times before, she appeared every bit as distant and aloof as she did the last time, nothing about her looked the slightest bit different from the usual condition, like nothing had ever happened at all, and the last few days were nothing but a wishful dream that was already beginning to fade.

Like so many times before, he found her at her usual seat, resting her head and the thick, blue hair on it on her intertwined fingers, silently gazing out of the window without showing any indication that she was paying very much attention to her surroundings – Shinji felt reminded of his father's usual posture, the one he always took at his own desk or his console in central dogma, right down to the nonexistent expression.

He recalled how Dr. Akagi had compared the two of them – and he had personally witnessed how they definitely seemed to be on a similar wavelength.

When he considered this thought, Shinji couldn't help but feel a certain heaviness hanging over him – As his biological son of NERV's sombrous commander, one would expect that he would get along with him at very least as well as Rei did, but that was very far from being the case. In all the time he had spent in the same town, working in the same buildings, they had hardly ever spoken to each other.

...but at the very least, he had allowed him to finish that battle two days ago.

Maybe... just maybe... things would continue to go well from now on, and his father would come to rely on him over time, maybe he wasn't even too far from earning his actual trust...

After all, he had briefly stopped in his tracks to look at him when he came to check up on Rei after their medical exam...

Or was he just reading too much into it?

That was when he noticed, and rather suddenly, too, that there was at least one pair of eyes that was definitely directed at him with deliberate purpose, but in the present rather than the past – Ayanami's.

She must have somehow noticed that he was looking at her... but she didn't move or say anything beyond that, she simply looked him straight in the eye, unabashed and direct.

Shinji sent himself into motion and walked over to his seat.

Even though the teacher had yet to arrive, in spite of all that had happened and everything they had exchanged, he still found it hard to speak to her in a public place like this, where everyone might just start gossiping about it.

In the end, old vices die hard,...

...but...

When the bell rang to announce the end of the first period and he moved towards the door for a joint trip to the water dispenser and chat with Touji and Kensuke along the way, he heard a high, female voice coming from behind him, no louder than absolutely necessary for it not to get lost in the ensuing bustling of liberated students: "See you later, Ikari-kun."

Quiet as it was, this ordinary phrase held enough significance to make not just him, but the two other boys who had made their way over to where he was standing stop in their tracks.

As he mumbled a slightly clueless, "O-Okay...", Kensuke adjusted his glasses as if to make sure that the words had indeed come from the lips of the pale girl who had remained at her place, not drawn away by any friends seeking to chat with her or even the simple desire to move around a bit.

A particularized silence of a flavor between awkward and disbelieving persisted between them as a sea of typical break activities continued parallel to the meeting of their eyes over the noise, but as soon as the boys were out of the room-

"Wow! She actually _talked_ to you!"

"I... I guess so..."

"She _never_ talks to _anyone_ unless there was a _reason_..."

"Are you still going to insist that 'nothing' happened between the two of you?"

How could he not?

He still didn't know how to classify these events, he still didn't know how _she_ felt about any of this, so what should he call this? How could he speak of it to none else and know that he wasn't sprouting nonsense?

"Still, she just- there's nothing special about... talking to someone. I'm doing it right now..."

Nonetheless, it was a kind of proof, proof that these crazy events that had transpired on the summit of the Futagoyama had in fact integrated themselves into reality, that things were different than before.

The mere fact that she was speaking to him didn't imply anything like... whatever Touji and Kensuke were thinking, but it was something, something tangible, maybe a sign that she was 'counting him in' somehow, as more of an associate than, say, the girl with the short, dark hair whom he often saw chatting with the class representative.

Now, he and Rei seemed a

little bit more like actual comrades.

* * *

><p>Later that day, Shinji spent most of the lunch break looking out of the window himself – Large parts of the inner city were still covered in the blood left by the angel's disintegration, many of the taller buildings retained large stains that had turned brown and dried into a thick, ugly crust, every bit like one would expect it if they had been left behind by a human instead.<p>

He had succeeded and defeated the angel, but... ultimately, no one had ever quite told him just what exactly he was up against. Misato had only recently entrusted him with the knowledge that they were beings who sought to destroy all of humanity, but this was pretty much all he could claim to know, and the things he _didn't_ know encompassed pretty much everything else: Where did they come from? Why were they here?

How could they just burst into liquid the moment they were defeated?

Shinji probably would have continues his musings for a long time if he hadn't been distracted by the sound of squeaking car wheels – He immediately recognized the blue vehicle and the supercilious nonchalance about any sort of safety regulations with which it was parked in front of the school, and so did Touji and Kensuke, who had rushed to the window with an almost uncanny speed, squeezing their unsuspecting friend into what little space was left between them.

"She actually came!" Touji exclaimed, elated.

Kensuke had, of course, somehow summoned his camcorder from hammerspace at this point, and was already pointing it at his object of interest.

Both boys – and pretty much every male student on this side of the building (that's what he got for confiding in those two) – soon got to see what they had been waiting for, complete with a sinfully short, black miniskirt, white high heels, a sand-colored bolero and a white, strapless top that seemed designed to conceal as little of her breasts as she could get away with without losing her lob.

As she removed her sunglasses, Shinji could see that she has switched the small peal earrings she usually wore fore somewhat larger, cross-shaped ones.

While it was probably perfectly proportional to her outfit, the commotion she caused inside the school was previously unheard of.

"What a gorgeous babe!"

"Who is she? Someone's older sister?"

"That's Ikari's guardian!"

"What? Ikari gets to live with that beauty?"

Many of the girls were far from delighted by the sight of the boys storming to the windows – Hikari in particular titled them as "Such Idiots!". One of the exceptions was Rei, who remained silent in her seat, apparently fairly indifferent to the ruckus around her.

But the boys also had the occasional dissenter among them, such as Mitsurugi, who didn't seem particularly impressed with the sight of Misato or the behavior of his classmates. Unlike Rei, he did briefly glance over to the Window and listen in to ascertain what everybody else was talking about, but his attention soon went back to the Rubik's cube in his hands.

Kensuke, by contrast, wasn't shy to express his ardor in words and actions, which included using his camera to zoom in on Misato's face – when she noticed her young amateur paparazzi, her only reaction consisted of an even wider grin, and a V-sign flung in his general direction.

Both boys eagerly returned the gesture, while Shinji looked at them with little ostensible comprehension.

"Oh boy, Misato-san is really, _really_ hot!"

Touji was in complete agreement: "And on top of that, she's also the leader of NERV's operations division! How much cooler can you get?"

"Well, I don't really know..."

Touji and Kensuke looked at their newest friend like he'd just admitted to disliking pizza or chocolate.

"Say, Kensuke, aren't we lucky that Shinji is still such a baby?"

"Yep. That's one contestant less!"

Shinji found it hard to relate to their enthusiasm, and secretly suspected that those two would think very differently if they had spent the last seven weeks cleaning up her messes.

"Oh, if only I had a girlfriend like her!" Touji continued to slobber, blowing a kiss into the air.

"You'd have a hard life..." Shinji informed them.

But as expected, those two insisted on knowing better and just shot him odd looks. "You have no clue! How about this: You take care of saving the earth, and in turn, we will take care of Misato-san for you!" they suggested, affirming their 'pact' with a seasoned pat on their new friend's back without waiting for an answer.

As far as Shinji was concerned, he was beginning to feel abit like an actor stuck on the set for the wrong movie.

If anyone here was clueless, it was _them_.

* * *

><p>While their words had mostly just annoyed him at the time, they returned to haunt him long after school, when he was sitting inside unit one for another test in the late afternoon.<p>

Although he was still _very_ far from recanting his thoughts on the part about Misato, there was something else they had spoken about – 'saving the earth'. Earlier, Kensuke had jokingly referred to him as a 'superhero', too, but the reality of his current situation was even more ludicrous than any satire could hope to be, not least because those terms were actually pretty accurate descriptions of the kind of task he was expected to perform by and for this organization.

With an involuntary shiver, he recalled the disturbing appearance of the white giant he had seen beneath the lowest levels of NERV HQ. If one of the angels were to make contact with that creature... it was all over. That much had become quite clear to him, but beyond that... what was that thing, really? How exactly was it related to 'all life on this planet', as Misato had phrased it? And what about the angels, what were they?

Or the EVAs.

They were supposedly created to protect humanity, but Shinji had no clue what they even were, and he was aware just how suboptimal that sounded when he said that while he was sitting inside of one.

He had to think of the grueling experience that was his first battle, particularly this bit right at the end, when he had caught a glimpse of the EVA's reflection in a nearby building, after the outer plating on the face had been destroyed, and there was this eye, and the distinct, unshakeable feeling that it had focused on him, that it had _recognized_ him...

His initial hypothesis that he was dealing with a mere robot had gone out of the window a long, long time ago, and now he thought of it, Unit Zero had been largely fleshy under its molten armor, which was its very own pit of madness – for what sort of flesh could largely survive the kind of heat that reduced rock and metal to puddles?

And there were other strange things, subtler, but all the more unsettling in retrospect – Over the course of the many, many test he had been forced to sit through, he couldn't help but notice this faint, underlying scent of blood characteristic of the liquid they used in the entry plug – he had shrugged it off, tried to convince himself that this was too morbid to be something other than his dreadful experiences inside the EVA makind him misinterpret his senses, but on his visit to level EEE, he was forced to find out that the truth was in fact even more nightmarish than any impression he could conceive of, and yet, even though he knew full fell that he was currently sitting in a claustrophobic tank filled with the blood of that twitching, undying abomination, he didn't _feel_ all that unsettled, not what he would usually consider the appropriate degree.

Whatever flowed back when he let his thoughts float into the metaphysical expanse of the Evangelion's largely empty shell and opened himself up to connect with it kept exuding this vague sense of... safety and comfort, and there was also the... (grotesque as it sounded) sense cozy warmth the entry plug was kept at, which betrayed itself to have origins beyond the physical temperature inside the plug, just from the unlikely circumstances it arose in.

All these details, or indeed the very situation of being a guinea pig for some experiment should be nothing short of _terrifying, _given what had happened to Ayanami on a supposed routine test, and the mountainloads of awful experiences he had personally lived through in this very seat, and here he was, _not_ panicking, wondering how this activity managed to be _calming_.

In the end, he was left with this irritating cloud of confusion about everything apart from his insurmountable conviction that he didn't know anything at all.

He had been EVA 01's designated pilot for almost two months, for all this time, he ha been completely unaware of something as crucial as this business with the second angel... they had only told him now, and even then, only because the alternative was him refusing to fight the sixth angel. At any point in the last seven weeks, he could have waltzed right out of Tokyo-3, ignorant of the vast consequences that his absence could have had...

What other ways to damn all of humanity with the slightest misstep was he yet unaware of?How was he supposed to make decisions like this, if no one told him anything?

There was still so much about NERV and the EVAs that he still didn't understand at all...

Unable to completely soothe his displeasure, he was beginning to process the sobering realization that this was simply the kind of world he lived in now – He had gotten himself into a world of great distances, distances that could only be conquered little by little, if at all. A world of insecurity, uncertainty and slow, tiny steps.

Once upon a time, before he came here, everything had been clearer and easier... now, the events and occurrences hunted after each other faster than his eyes could follow.

He still couldn't say for sure if these last few weeks had been a change for better or worse.

And he still couldn't fathom just why he had decided to force this on himself.

He was still pondering this when he found himself silently waiting on one end of the small platform that served to transport people up to the cage, or, now that the experiment was finally over, all the way back down.

Meanwhile, some the other participants involved in this experiment – Dr. Akagi, Misato, Hyuuga and Ibuki – were on the same lift platform, discussing a multitude of topics he could barely follow. The most he could tell that they started out saying roughly positive things about the results of today's test (So there was at least one thing he _didn't_ have to spend too much worry on), but later proceeded to discussing the damages resulting from the latest battle:

"So, what's the status on Unit Zero's armor?" Dr. Akagi inquired.

"Massively damaged. Judging by the finalized damage assessment, we'll have to replace it completely, but that will completely exhaust the remainder of our supplemental budget..."

Dr. Akagi sighed. "Perhaps we'll be able to relax a little once EVA 02 arrives from Germany..."

But Hyuuga was less optimistic: "I'm afraid it might go the other way around. Even having the angel's remains mopped up costs a fortune each time..."

"Money, money, money! I really don't get how they can be so stingy with the budget. Considering that we're ensuring the survival of humanity here, it's practically a crime that we don't get more cash!" Misato complained.

"There is nothing we can do." The fake blonde concludes. "EVAs aren't edible, and both supplying people around the world with provisions and securing the distribution of our few remaining natural resources also costs money. This is also a part of ensuring the survival of humanity."

"Still, if they're renegotiating the budget, the commander will probably be going to one of these conferences very soon..."

"He already left." Dr. Akagi comfirmed. "His plane should already be up in the air."

"He can take his take as far as I'm concerned..." the young technician stated. "His absence makes headquarters a quiet place..."

"Oh, and Misato?"

"Yes?"

"That event will be held tomorrow, just as they originally planned. Don't forget it."

Hiding his growing dissatisfaction behind a manual he was studying for the umpteenth time without ever having manged to suck any truly relevant information out of its pages, Shinji just kept standing where he was while the platform continued its descent.

What a surprise – from the looks of it, his father had disappeared off the map yet again without anyone informing him, and he probably wouldn't even have noticed that he ever left if he hadn't payed attention to this particular conversation, that was just the extent of how little they actually had to do with each other.

The Third Child didn't really feel like asking them, in part because their conversation was none of his business and he didn't want to bother or interrupt them, or come off as nosy, but from the way they were talking, it wouldn't surprise him if this conference his father was supposedly going to was not even in Japan. But even if the leader of NERV had left the country, what reason would he really have to tell his son? It' not like they would speak with each other any less because of this. _All _he _ever_ heard of what was going on in his father's life were just things he picked up by coincidence during his own work at NERV.

And judging from Lt. Ibuki's words, he didn't seem to be very personable, or even popular with _any_ of his underlings... well, apart from Rei. Or maybe it was just some of them, or just Ibuki. Shinji felt like it was his duty to say something about that, but he couldn't think of anything in particular. He barely knew Lt. Ibuki, and so far his limited impression of her was that of a normal, compassionate person, but Shinji still felt that it was somehow his duty as his son to defend his virtues – but if NERV's aloof commander had any virtues worth defending, Shinji had never seen them. He didn't know what about him he was supposed to defend when someone spoke ill of him, or what to miss when he was out of town. Shinji briefly wondered if perhaps _ Ayanami _could properly miss his father, but that would probably be another one of those many, many things he wasn't going to find out any time soon – much like the answers for his questions about this... _being _he had encountered that day in the woods, all of which he tried to banish from his thoughts as well as he could.

And there were so many other mockingly casual mentions of things they weren't telling him anything about... it was the first time he heard about this 'event' Misato was apparently planning to participate in the _very next day._

At least Kensuke would probably be delighted to hear that they were apparently going to get a new EVA, EVA 02 if he understood them correctly – He distantly wondered if Rei was going to pilot it, now that EVA 00 would be out of commission for a while...

Speak of the devil.

After a long voyage, the platform finally reached what was the ground level relative to the cage, and down there, they were already being awaited by the crew that had been dispatched to the neighboring cage, consisting of one of the women who had been in the same bunker as Misato and the others during Operation Yashima, a middle-aged male technician Shinji didn't really recognize, and most importantly, both Aoba and the unintentional source of endless awkwardness and stewing misery that was Mitsurugi senior, who immediately engaged his superiors with lively hand gestures and outgoing mannerisms, informing them how the last member of their half of the team had performed, a figure as silent an distant from him as Shinji was from his own allotted batch of synch score measuring adults, whose light skin and hair worked together with he ghostly white plug suit to create an illusion of an unearthly glow around her.

So far, Shinji had deemed it wiser to spare his surroundings from getting interacted at by someone in a mood as disgruntled as his, but since it was her, the words she had spoken this morning (not just during the first break, but also when they were both about to leave the building) were back in the equation, and with them, the feeling that he owed it to her to take the next step upon himself since she had taken care of the last one.

Since the adults were busy talking among themselves and both pilots had been standing a fair bit behind them to begin with, it should be easily possible to strike up a quit conversation without drawing too much attention (and thus, teasing) from them, and since Misato would probably take him back home after she was done talking, this was probably the last chance he would get to speak with her until tomorrow morning in a classroom packed with gossip-happy classmates.

In addition, he saw that she had her arms half crossed as if to hold her own upper arms and elbows, which rekindled his earlier worries that being connected to EVA 00 while it was still substantially damaged couldn't have been all that comfortable.

Sure, her expression and posture were a stiff sort of stoic, but he'd just walked out of a similar test himself. Despite how awful he had felt at various points during the last battle, it turned out that the actual, physical damage to EVA 01 was largely superficial, so that he found it mostly repaired and repainted when he reported in for the experiment today. While yesterday had been his day off, the various technicians had been busy repairing and replacing everything, but while the biological parts could be regenerated much faster than the corresponding bits in a human, Shinji had come to notice a slight sense of soreness right beneath his upper skin layers that partially stayed with him even after the hours-long experiment was over.

By extrapolation from how much worse EVA 's damage had been, he could guess that Rei had to be worse off than him even with her somewhat lower synch ratio, but _of course _she hadn't objected to being subjected to _yet more _unpleasantness after the more than sufficient dose she should have gotten while her EVA acquired the damage in the first place. While she was later declared to have no actual physical injuries, he had to support her when they first heard the retrieval squad's helicopter outside of EVA 's plug. Offering to help her get to her feet seemed rather natural since she was the one who had been unconscious just before and he was already conveniently holding her hand, but when he saw that it still cost her come effort to get to her feet, he was initially worried that she might have sustained some serious injuries since she was already weakened from the previous incident. She was at first somewhat surprised at his sudden urgency to grab her ("What's the matter?" "Uh..N... nothing...", as if having to have this degree of physical contact with her whole arm didn't make this awkward enough), and repeated her earlier assessment that she could probably stand well enough, and helped her towards the lights of the nearing helicopter, which unusually contained a very worried Misato frantically pointing around with her flashlight in addition to the typical load of paramedics (For all her apparent foolhardy confidence in her crazy plan, she ultimately revealed herself to be very, undignified terrified of the prospect of having gotten any of her pilots injured as a result of her actions, especially so soon after the last debacle), where they had provisionally strapped her to a stretcher, just in case.

Ultimately, it was just the usual numbness as her nerves gradually switched back to 'normal' after the strain of what must have been a painful misadventure, but Shinji knew from personal experience that this didn't mean it wasn't pretty unpleasant.

He wouldn't be surprised if she spent most of yesterday resting in her bed, which wouldn't have been necessary if he'd taken out the angel with the first shot, so while the whole deal had ended positively enough for Shinji not to bother with the whole self-blame cart when he had other, more recent things to brood about, but it did serve as a further point he used to convince himself that he owed it to her to g and talk to her, and do it properly.

In the end, however, making what he actually ended up saying look like the result of great conviction seemed to have been too much too ask, although this was, in part, to blame on the usual need to reach for the next best conversation topic.

"We're getting a new EVA, Ayanami... Misato-san and the others say they're bringing EVA 02 over here, all the way from Germany..."

The lack of immediate reaction of even a turn of the head in his direction was expected, but in his current state, Shinji couldn't completely dampen this dissuading feeling that crept up in loops and circles formed by pessimism's all too familiar dance of 'I told you so'.

"Did you know that? That other countries were also making EVAs... and that there's more than just ours?"

"Yes." she stated, without otherwise moving any part of her body that weren't her lips.

This was discouraging in more ways than just one, to know that she hadn't told him either. He obviously hadn't known her that long, certainly not long enough for her to spill anything she knew to him, and he didn't have delusions about that either, but it would have been nice to have reasons for further conversation, and perhaps he would have unapologetically liked this feeling of... knowing that there is someone in this same boat of not knowing.

Considering that Rei had been affiliated with NERV for much longer, it shouldn't even surprise him that she knew such things, even if she was also just a pilot... considering that the spent much time around his father, she might even know more about the EVAs than even Misato, and the more he considered it, the less legit reasons he saw to have ever thought otherwise. Their perspectives were completely incomparable in that respect... His second concern, however, wasn't as easily explained away, which was, simply speaking, one of opaqueness. By now he could tell that her not looking at him didn't necessarily mean she wasn't listening, but that didn't necessarily mean he was suddenly an expert on her or anything; In truth, he couldn't read her at all, he couldn't even tell if she had been waiting all day for him to respond to her, or if he was currently just bothering her while she was already feeling uncomfortable, and this was really the most untenable state.

"Hm..."

Before he got the chance to gather his thoughts and maybe take a closer look at her as she stood there, between control panels and corridors, it became apparent that time was up when Misato blithely announced that they were all finished for today, and filled even whatever last holes the one-sided observation of proper decorum could have left by taking the time to wave in Rei's direction and wishing her a nice evening.

Trapped in a private space of longing silence that seemed to exist in its own dimension separate from wherever Misato was spreading her usual brand of slightly forced, supremely embarrassing yet ultimately well meaning cheerfulness, he yielded to the flow of gestures and words leading him out of the room. There was very little he could do about that.

* * *

><p>In sepulchral silence, Commander Ikari stared straight into the inkblot-blackness of the outer atmosphere.<p>

With arms crossed over his chest, he sat in large first-class compartment on board of a supersonic jet, all of which had been reserved solely for him and his purposes, and yet, he still renounced all of its worldly pump by sitting right next to, and directing this firm, ambitious gaze right through one of the numerous small cabin windows, his choice a declaration of intent more than it was a pastime, for what lay outside was more in line with his nature, and far more pleasing to his eyes, especially now that the high altitude path of the man made vehicle was crossing the bloody edges of the southern region, though still not daring to approach the edges of the rampant vortex, where an old wound gaped in the skin of the red earth ball which to this day had staunchly refused to ever heal.

Even when he perceived the sound of a door sliding open, he didn't bother averting his eyes from the merciless abyss beneath or the outer darkness above – he had already been waiting for his informant to show up.

"Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?"

The informant, a large Chinese man in a dark suit, didn't wait for an answer and cut straight to the chase instead: "The supplementary budget for the sample collection has been passed without further delays."

"Of course. The committee would never risk their on survival."

"And there is yet more good news: With the exception of the United States, all permanent members of the security council have approved the budget for unit 07 – and it's only a matter of time until they approve as well." the informant took a gulp out of a pocket flask he had pulled out as he went on explaining. "Excuses like unemployment or national debts won't cut it any longer."

The commander did not avert his eyes from the darkness beyond the window.

"And what about your country?"

"We will participate from unit 10 onwards. The plan for the second facility is still afloat – our only problem is that we still don't have any pilots."

That would be a secondary problem at best, but at this point, Ikari chose to keep that to himself, for he had other concerns to worry about – among them, the simple fact that there were two more numbers between seven and ten. As far as the other missing numbers were concerned, he was already privy to certain hints, but the number eight, this insignificantly tweaked symbol of infinity, cloaked itself in complete and utter silence.

"We can't afford to be negligent right now. The angels have returned, and the EVAs are the only weapons that can defeat them."

"That is true... No one wants a tragedy like Second Impact to repeat itself..."

* * *

><p>After having taken his time to practice a bit on the Cello to calm himself down a little and actually achieved a fairly satisfactory Shinji did not expect to have this dream again.<p>

Not two night straight.

But still, there he was.

On a beach in a dead world, beneath a blood-sprangled sky.

The familiar roar of the surf just would not leave him in peace under any circumstance.

Why?

Why did this have to happen again?

Why did this have to happen at all?

As much as he hoped to have found the 'solution' to the recurrence last time, when something halfway pleasant took place, this dream was proving itself to be very persistent.

Shinji had far past enough of this, he couldn't see any _point_, it was like having a warning repeated over and over again after he'd gotten it the first time.

He felt this stubborn little impulse to just get over with opening his eyes to make this end faster, but he hesitated.

In his mind, he begged whatever forces controlled this place not to make him suffer the first, let alone the second variant of the dream – once again, he could fell that vexatious mass of alien feelings filling his being, pestering him without ever revealing their sources, _horrible_ feelings that made him want to tear out his hear and throw it as far as his thin arms could manage, gooey, succulent squirts of guilt, self-disgust and loneliness, stronger than he ever knew them, more intense and absolute that he ever feared they could be, hideous emotions in quantities that could tear him apart.

He didn't even know where this pain came from, so what could he do to rationalize it away? What should he focus on to repress it, how could he run away from it without running straight into its arms, never mind taking some real measure to stop it.

He was wholly and truly at its mercy, and all he could do was hope that he'd hit the version of the dream in which there was someone here with him.

More than anything, he wanted... some sort of company, _any_ sort of company...

Not necessarily Misato – right now, he found it hard to even have this kinds of thoughts aout her, he was still substantially disgruntled because of this whole housework thing, and her comment about him being 'part of her work' constricted around his heart like a thorny vine, fertilized by the many unspoken secrets festering around the joint workplace that connected them.

He'd prefer to have someone who was... yes, still pleasant and wise enough to lead him, but without expecting him to pay in slave work, favors or anything else, someone who would... just be there and let him be there, but still left him a certain distance without detracting from her acceptance... distance that left space for mystery and a connection to the things beyond this world, but without the completely 'unworldly' intangibility of Ayanami, he wouldn't mind if she talked, like, a lot.

But now, he could no longer deny that he was beginning to wish, and this was more than he ever deserved.

So he opened his eyes, and there she was again, where the sea touched the land, standing on the surface of the water like a mirage to be admired and desired, but never to be reached or touched.

Only this time, the sight of her, the sounds of the waves, and the fine sand were accompanied by the most curious of sight, a change to surreal that he barely payed it any mind because of it's sheer crazyness and the lack of possible sensible ways in which he could react to it.

The entire sea, including the furthest outreach of the waters that nearly reached his position, was a deep, unreal gradient of blue, like something done with a computer's graphic program, from a dark midnight color at the distant horizon, to a light-drenched cyan where shallow outreaches seemed to lick the white sand.

Had he been in a more ordered state, he might have connected this counter-intuitive sight of all these stories about how the sea had looked and smelt in the times of their ancestors, but as he was right now, Shinji couldn't process a blue sea any more than a green sky, or a forest where all the leaves on the plant where a bright, sugary pink.

Between the sea and the apparition above it, it was the image of the girl who offered more sensible ways to react with her.

Ayanami Rei. Or was she?

In any case, having _her_ at his side was something he couldn't even hope to_ dream _of.

Her image disappeared right before his wide open eyes.

This didn't deter Shinji from keeping up his stare.

That is, until he became aware of this blurred object at the lower edges of his field of vision, which he swiftly exposed as a female body by adjusting the lenses of his eyes.

The Third Child couldn't have explained why he began to experience this rising, warm perception, or why he began to quake with sobs and tears as soon as he sat up to get a closer look at her – the person next to him was not Misato, but a complete stranger.

The girl before his eyes appeared much younger, still ostensibly older than Shinji himself, but not by very much; Regardless, she probably would have towered over him if they were both on their feet and was generally rather 'developed' for her age – while she was fairly thin around the waist to the point that she might have seemed lanky if it wasn't for her wide, feminine hips and the well-stocked buttocks behind them – Shinji couldn't really see it in this position, so the fact that he somehow knew about it regardless made him pretty nervous. Her breasts, however, would have been very hard to hard and impossible to overlook, since they were positively _gigantic _and her clothing did very little to hide them.

Wait a moment, her clothing... wasn't that a plug suit?

A _bright pink_ one, at that, also featuring the occasional blue or white element, clinging tightly to her skin and hiding very little of her ample secondary sex characteristics.

Damn, you could even take a guess at the outlines around her mons pubis... - Shinji took note of the numbers '05' on her suit, and then forced his eyes up to her face.

He _really_ couldn't find even a _single_ previous memory at this face in his skull, not at school, not at NERV, not in the city, not in the village his teacher lived in, her features just didn't trigger any sort of 'click' in his head.

As far as Shinji could tell, she looked a little European, although he had to admit that he had never ventured far beyond the previously mentioned locations, and his teacher's native village was hardly a nexus of cosmopolitanism. There was this lone Korean family, and Shinji had never really talked to anyone in this village anyway. He hadn't even _seen_ anyone from outside east Asia up close, except on television.

In any case, the stranger had long, chestnut-brown hair, one or two shades lighter than his own, and carrying and contrasting his inconspicuous earthy tone with a rufous warmth to her characteristic hue.

Her mahogany tresses flowed freely over the ground, and somewhere in the back of his mind, this registered as vaguely wrong, like she was supposed to have another hairstyle. What paradoxically didn't bother the back of his head was the ridiculously out of place, girlish blue headband which looked like something you'd expect on the head of a six-year-old – except for those small white plastic ornaments at each side, whose futuristic design of straight, edgy lines and general shape reminded him of... an interface headset for Evangelion pilots?

That would certainly explain the plug suit, but as far as he knew, there _were_ no other pilots apart from himself and Rei – wasn't that why they had insisted on recruiting him in the first place, because there was no one to beat the fourth angel in Rei's stead?

Either way, as soon as his initial confusion had abated, he felt inclined to make sure whether this strange girl was alright – but he wasn't completely in control of his actions in this place, he still kept feeling things that he couldn't explain, but still influenced his actions.

Carefully, almost tenderly, he lifted up the girl's upper body and cradled her in his arms.

Of course.

Of course she would be here.

Her never fading fearless smile that she kept even if the most dire of situations had always been continuous proof of her bottomless strength.

She had always been strong, and loved life, so much that she would spare the life of, think of _saving_ even those for which redemption was forever beyond their reach, specifically, the person who took it all away from her, who rendered all her effort moot, the one who let all of her willpower and determination go to waste in spite of the advice she had tried to give him.

It was obvious why she had come back, but why in the world would she be _with him_?

She had to be horribly disappointed...

She had to hate him...

And although he knew full well that her insurmountable superiority above him came precisely from the fact that she was wholly incapable of such ugly things, he still dreaded the moment of her awakening and the ugly mirror it would present to his own unworthiness, his inability to understand why she would spare his life, but with every moment in which this didn't occur, another, even ghastlier fear took hold in his mind: The idea that she might never wake at all.

He called out her name, a simple, short combination of sounds that would have slipped from his grasp by the time the rays of the sun brought him back into the realm of the living.

And indeed: She reacted. She lived, she began moving, she opened her eyes the slightest bit – they were a vivid, light blue-green the likes of which he'd never seen before.

She raised one of her hands, at first a bit tentatively, probably because she was still somewhat dizzy, and stretched it into the air. For an instant, Shinji worried that she was going to slap him across the face or otherwise touch him, a possibility that made everything about him stiffen in apprehension, but in the end, all she did was to plce her hand across her own face.

"Have you seen my glasses?"

That was... somewhat anticlimactic.

Shinji didn't really know what to say – part of him still wondered why he even bothered with being surprised in the presence of this girl, and put a small, relieved smile on his face – She was alright after all – The rest of his conscious reasoning was busy wondering just why he felt, and so far, even _acted_ like he knew this girl. Witnessing all of this in the first person was indescribably mind-boggling, but dizziness did not seem to be part of the experience his subconscious had decided to squeeze him into.

As for the stranger herself, she just contented herself with looking at him right through the gaps between her fingers and narrowing her myopia-ridden eyes, hoping to at least vaguely discern his outline.

"Hey you." she began, her seemingly unshakeable aura of good-natured calm and vaguely detached serenity barely perturbed by their post-apocalyptic surroundings or the kind of pose their bodies were currently arranged in.

"NERV Puppy, is that you?"

Shinji confusedly blinked at her. Did she just say _Puppy?_

The idiosyncratic stranger answered her own question by making use of her convenient proximity to his chest by leaning over to sniff it.

Strangely, this didn't freak him out nearly as much as it should, but instead filled him with a kind of fond nostalgia steeped in an aftertaste of longing melancholy.

"Yep! It's you! Including your nifty LCL parfume!"

She grinned, vaguely teasing but mostly just brightly.

"So, Puppy-kun, have you seen my glasses after all?"

"Uh... I'm afraid not... Sorry..."

The girl sighed and detached herself from his arms in order to sit up.

She arranged herself opposite him, looking somewhat peeved.

"Meh. I guess I'll have to do without them for a while." her expression shifted back to a warm, bright smile with a hint of something otherworldly in its corners. "At least we're all still alive... Good job there!"

"But... I..."

"It's alright. It's okay. You obviously can't be sure whether something is good or bad unless you give it a try, right?"

She giggled.

"See? It wasn't that hard after all. I _knew_ you could do it!"

"But I... I did..."

Shinji couldn't bear to look her in the eye.

He was completely undeserving of her certainty; Or even of dwelling in her orbit.

"You... you shouldn't have spared me. Neither you, nor.. Why did you do it?"

"Why not?"

"Why-... Isn't that obvious?!" Shinji demanded to know, almost lapsing to the realm of the accusing.

"Not really. I couldn't think of any reason. What good would it do? Would not helping you help us in some way, or fix anything of what happened? Excuse me, but I don't really see appeal in sitting down and moping, or just smashing things 'cause you're pissed. The Princess has been trying to teach me for ages, but I guess I'm just no good at it." she stated, calmly, hard to challenge in the simplicity of her conclusions. "Besides, if I _do _help you, you could help us a little. You and the Princess used to be friends, right? So I thought you might want to help her. That's what I meant to tell you back then. And that other time, a long, long time ago. So no reasons to leave you, and even reasons to not do it. Sorry if that's disappointing, but that' really all I thought. As I told you, if you always worry about everything, you'll never get to have any fun. I think."

But she had lost him quite a while ago.

"...help you? Me? Help you? You and Asuka?"

How on earth did she expect him to answer that?

How could he possibly begin to?

"I'm the one who should be apologizing, and not just for something like disappointing you... I fear you thought too highly of me there, ..." He spoke her name again.

But the stranger was sure of her words:

"I don't think so."

"_Why on earth wouldn't you?"_

The girl just giggled.

"You know, Puppy-kun, sometimes you can be really cute with the way you just don't seem get anything at times."

_What on...?!_

"You know what? Let's dispense with the talking. It's just because..."

And before Shinji had grasped what has happened, she had leaned forward an covered his thin, exhausted body with the opulence of hers, evoking old memories – but this time, her head did not slide right past his to sniff at his neck or even whisper in his ear, but stopped to plant a tiny kiss on his cheek.

Even when he had risen to his feet, the initial bewilderment on his face was still nearly palpable.

"Le's go!" she said, offering her hand with a challenging, confident smile. "We need to go find the Princess, Sakura-san and the others! They're probably waiting for us!"

Shinji was willing to lift up his hand, but when the moment to make contact came, he stopped dead in his tracks.

_Everyone's waiting._

When he looked at the girl before him, the outreached hand, the way her whole body and every tiniest facet of her posture had transformed into an invitation, how a single glance would tell her everything about her truth, and the way she could not be otherwise, he felt the sting of an ancient pain flare up inside him, a faded image of another girl of such truth and honesty, who hadn't needed any sort of filter or discrepancy between the innermost of her feelings and the cheapest, simplest truth of her words and actions, a girl that was long gone, along with the world she lived in and many other lost souls that had been dear and special to him, along with those doors that, while still present in this world, had definitely closed and would never open to him again, at least not the way they were, not if he wanted to add something new to these ruminated pictures of the past that would only strike pain in the hearts of everyone involved.

But as sure as these bonds were forever lost, he had come to the conviction that they weren't worthless. If he was still here on this beach, then only because of the absent friends that had taught him these lessons.

As sure as these bonds were gone, they had been real; They held genuine light in them, and they had shaped the patters of his heart and mind, like someone he once knew would have worded it very long ago, and for this, he cried every day and he would continue to do so for as long as his memories would carry them with him, and he didn't want it to be any other way, he didn't want to stop hurting or caring one little bit for one of the sous that had been lost in this war, although he knew that it was probably too idealistic to not expect any numbness...

But this was another truth:

As sure as he had lost these bonds, he had also forged then long ago, and maybe, just maybe, he would be able to forge new ones, maybe with this girl before him, maybe with other people like Miss Sakura that were scattered across the night.

There was a time when he had loathed change, when even the minor shifts in the folds and conditions of human existencethat followed along with time were enough to terrify him out of his mind, but when he looked at this girl who seemed to embody the very unpredictability that lurked at the corners of this world, he began to think that maybe, just maybe, he might be able to live with it.

So the two of them walked hand in hand, leaving footprints in the alabaster sand although they knew that the refreshing, soothing blue of the tide would soon wash them away, and that low tides would follow them, over and over again and allow for very different paths of footprints.

And as they wandered along the shoreline, a crown of red refraction announced the incoming arrival of a sun he thought he would never see again.

With a blissful smile on his lip and a whole new world to be reclaimed, even a subtle, heady feeling of being on top of the world managed to creep into his thoughts with the morning sun, and once again, he wondered what he could possibly have done to deserve this, even if the words held a very different meaning this time...

But even as he felt the sunlight on his cheeks, the wet sand beneath his feet and the pink rubber of his companion's pink plug suit in his hand, among the wild flurry of emotions that was only new beginning to settle, there was also a faint, dreamlike sense of what was barely distinguishable from common, personal disbelief, a sense that somehow, somewhere in time, the calling of what now felt like a distant dream he could hardly even recall was still awaiting his return, it's distant, forgotten beckoning characterized more by the absence of characteristics to describe it with, hollow shapes in the recesses of his mind that did little more than occupy space and swallow any complete certainty of warmth more efficiently that silence ever could.

Still, whatever might be there, waiting for him to remember where he out it, there was no reason that the thought that warmed him now couldn't continue to do so when that tie came, when he would manage to think of the paradoxical absurdity he had been flung into.

That he had been forced to endure sad and horrible things in the past didn't mean that he couldn't build a present for himself right now... wherever 'right now' might be...

* * *

><p>(1) A bit of what whipping out the Cello was meant to signify beyond creating this general mood of "passing contemplation" was to show Shinji in the process of reaching a certain critical level of comfortableness and stability, he's no longer constantly on guard, and reaches a state where... "something to do" becomes something he'll concern himself withno longer immediately defaults to "grab SDAT player and retreat under blanket", as a companion piece to the "open complaints" thing, but also further exploration of the very apparent shift we have after what used to be ep 6.

(2) Yeah, the "trailer version" of unit 08 has made it into the plans for this fic, partly because this part of the planning was done long before Q and too entrenched to be changed/fixed with minor adjustments (like, for example, the Mari scene), and partly because it'll be cool to explore what the alternate scenario might have been like. While it is not very unlikely for finalized!EVA 08 to show up, it will probably be under a different number. I DO want that gratuitous infinity symbol symbolism, I blame it's use in "Nadia".

(3) So, finito, finish line, end of the chapter! What, were you expecting a little more? Sure, it would be nice if we could peacefully proceed to the next Act at this point but wait, wasn't Gendo plotting something earlier this chapter? Well, Anno certainly was when he was making episode 7, for how could you make a series about deconstructing the Humongous Mecha genre without deconstructing the idea of a Humongous Mecha itself? Therefore, there shall be derpy robots, misogynistic jerks and a very different side to both Misato and NERV. Stay tuned for chapter 17: [Flesh vs Steel] ! So don't be disappointed, Shinji, just one more mecha battle (for once, involving actual mechas), and we will have concluded the story arc! Surely someone who previously defeated eldritch monstrosities with little more than a glorified kitchen knife will not be daunted by a puny robot?


	17. 16: Flesh vs Steel

**16: [Flesh vs Steel]**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Nobody knows who I really am<strong>_

_Maybe they just don't give a damn_

_But if I ever need someone to come along_

_I know you will follow me_

_And keep me strong  
><em>

**_[...]_**_  
><em>

**_And everytime I see your face_**

_The oceans heave up to my heart_

_You make me wanna strain at the oars_

_And soon, I will see the shore  
><em>

**_I want you to know who I really am_**

_I never thought I'd feel this way towards you_

_And If you ever need someone to come along_

_I will follow you_

_And keep you strong  
><em>

__-Rie Fu, 'Life is Like a Boat'__

* * *

><p>When the next morning came, Shinji awoke to a muddy feeling of déjà-vû and the faint, lingering impressions of a faded dream, just like he had the day before, and he felt it even more definitely now, this strangely urgent sense of having forgotten something very, very important, like he had a pot cooking on a stove somewhere, or neglected to unplug the smoothing iron – domestic objects with whom he'd had far too much contact for his liking recently, although he had managed to avoid such mishaps thus far, mostly owing to his nigh neurotic fear of burning down the house accidentally, which had made him extremely cautious about checking every source of heat or electricity twice or thrice, never leaving anything of the sort unsupervised – Which was strangely not mutually exclusive with the awareness that he was probably a pretty pitiful sight while engaged in such activities.<p>

And although all this was increasingly beginning to register as 'normal' to his brain, to the point that he could mercifully go through with the undignified household chores without thinking too much about what he was doing here, he still couldn't shakes off this strange dreams and the feeling of déjà-vû that followed them in the mornings that increasingly marked them as a distinct entity from the general chaos this piloting business and his new surroundings had thrown him into... nonetheless, this only worried him very distantly, since those dreams had begun to be significantly less unpleasant lately, and after all, he was being subjected to all these EVA-related experiments some of which involved monitoring his body function very closely, so any perception that the intensity of this episodes was slowly increasing surely had to be a product of his overactive imagination which could be reliably trusted to spin everything into an impending catastrophe.

Therefore, he decided to simply ignore these confusing perceptions, and finally put on the fresh uniform which he'd prepared and put on a clothes hanger yesterday, as if to spite the lingering impression that he had done this many, many times before, seen, heard and touched this exact same set of perceptions so often he'd lost count... But as time passed, either because he was more or less forced to pay attention by routine tasks that didn't offer much distractions, or because he was wrong after all, and the echoes that followed the sounds of the house were indeed intensified, he was beginning to think he could make out a second, female voice in the latter, of theoretical, not further describable _someone _who seemed to be 'missing' from the present, as little as he could think of anyone to miss... it certainly wasn't the girl from his lat dream, was it?

The more he thought about it, the less sure he became. Just now, a few minutes ago, right before he woke up, he felt he had knowledge of her name and personality, but now, it was all just breaking down into a haze, even her face had devolved into vague outlines.

But never mind;

There was little he could do about it anyway, it was not like he could ever expect to receive an explanations for this.

Stretching himself a little, Shinji left his room and departed towards the kitchen – in passing, as he was about to close the door to his room behind him, he briefly felt like he saw a very different sign on it, bearing a name other than his own.

He shrugged it off and blamed it on the aftereffects of the dream, which in any case didn't waste much more time in disappearing like they had never been there as soon as he opened his window and exposed his skin to the warmth of sunset.

It was pretty bright today and appropriately efficient at chasing the uncertain darkness out of the rooms, and there were even the shrill cries of birds to remedy the silence, almost like the universe were feeling exceptionally merciful – or simply forgot about tormenting him.

Speaking of birds, the resident penguin was also up on his feet already, and used one of his fin-like wings to point at his food bowl as soon as he spotted the recently acquired secondary human.

Shinji sighed.

By now, he had no doubt that there had to be some truth to that old story about how pets and their owners often ended up resembling each other.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming..."

As soon as Pen Pen was provided with a sufficient amount of fish, Shinji popped some slices of bread into the toaster and waited for it to pop them back out in a somewhat crispier and browner state, after which both of them went on to enjoy their breakfast – He had also put a can of beer on the table in the meantime, even though he knew that it would probably stand there for a while before it was actually opened.

He had only just begun to mentally prepare himself for an encounter with Misato in her typical, half-naked state when the door to her room opened a whole lot earlier than expected.

Both penguin and pilot experienced an exponential increase in the size of their gawking organs – the former even dropped the fish he had been chewing on to let out a rather confounded "Waaak?!"

Right before them stood the impossible – Misato. Appropriately dressed. Early in the morning.

Lest anyone interpret 'appropriately' to mean that she had some sort of jacket draped over her sinfully scarce coverings, or even something like a nice nightgown, what would never occur to anyone otherwise had to be explicitly stated: Against all established laws of nature, her body was almost entirely covered with black cloth, specifically a high-necked, elegant dress with sideways slits just below the hips, paired with a matching, long-sleeved bolero.

Despise its tendency to expose part of her legs, her atypically upright pose managed to give the regular shapes of the dress a military tough... usually, she would look more like a moody cave woman than any sort of ranked officer.

Both the dress and her posture, however, worked together when it came to accentuating her shapely curves.

"Good morning." she said without the slightest flicker of hyperactivity, her demeanor more serious than it was even for most of the time he saw her working at NERV, unless there was some special occasion like an urgent, angel-related situation.

Shinji blinked several times to make sure that this wasn't yet another dream. But no, she was still there.

"G-good m-morning..." he stuttered, too thoroughly floored to even put his toast down. She was even wearing _pumps._

With _high heels._

"I'm going to Old Tokyo on business. I'll be late, so you better order out."

"O-okay..."

And just like that, she left.

Still holding the toast in his hand, Shinji kept staring at the door long after it had been closed.

* * *

><p>"And then I said – with a lemon of course!"<p>

As soon as Touji had delivered his punchline, he couldn't quite help laughing at his own joke, and Kensuke, too, seemed to find it rather amusing, which ultimately only served to direct their shared attention at the one person who had remained relatively quiet during their ongoing conversation about citrus fruits, warships, the meaning of life, and the deep and intricate relations between them.

"Hey, Shinji!"

Almost instinctively, Shinji reacted to the not exactly raised, but still louder than usual voice of his classmate, who was once again blissfully ignoring the school's dress code, a fast and somewhat subordinating reaction comparable to a young child suspecting that his mom may just have found the remains of an ill-fated vase under the carpet.

"What's... the matter?"

"That's what I wanted to ask _you_. You seem pretty distracted today. Did something happen?"

"Not really... It's just that, this morning, Misato-san was dressed up grandly for some reason, with... makeup and jewelry and stuff and, this fancy dress..."

"A fancy dress? What sort of dress?" both boys mentioned in tandem, taking little time in erasing the previously mentioned lemons from their mind to make room for what they apparently considered more interesting topics.

Shini suppressed a sigh, maybe to avoid coming off as ungrateful.

Those two probably thought that Misato wore this sort of thing almost every morning – in truth, she had almost seemed like a completely different person, like she had been abducted by aliens and replaced by a distinctly unconvincing, inhumanly well-behaved robot duplicate.

"It was a black dress..." he ultimately answered his friends' inquiry, somewhat reluctant to mention it at all, mostly because he could already imagine what would happen next:

The two boys' reaction made it very obvious that they had immediately pictured said dress in their mind and most likely imagined it to be a lot more revealing than it actually was. "You lucky bastard! No wonder you've got your head in the clouds today. Mine would be, too!" Touji's gushing was immediately met with Kensuke's agreement: "Oh yes! After all, it's hard to resist a lady in black! Especially if she's got a military rank... Sometimes I wish a lady like that would order _me_ around..."

"Well, she _is_ a Captain, but-..."

"COOL!" both boys shouted in unison before Shinji had any chance to finish his sentence.

They did not quite manage to infect him with their enthusiasm.

"And what about you?" Kensuke wanted to know. "Do you also have a rank? You _were_ wearing some kind of uniform that day..."

"Why would I have a _rank?_ I'm just a regular high school student, I didn't go through any sort of _training_ or anything... and that outfit isn't really an 'uniform' at all. It's supposed to help with the connection..."

"It's still cool!"

"I'm not sure if you would still think that if you had to wear one yourself... It's embarrassing, really, it feels like walking around half naked... and mine isn't even that bad, you should see what they make Ayanami wear..."

"Incredible." Touji said. "At home, you get to see Misato in hot black dresses, and when you go to work, you have the next hottie ready to be ogled! You know, sometimes I really wish I had your life... "

Shinji struggled to keep that treacherous sprinkle of red from solidifying on his cheeks.

"It's... not like that at all..."

"Yeah, suuuure..." The tone of Kensuke's voice made it pretty obvious that he wasn't convinced at all. "Come on, you've gotta have some sort of code designation at least, didn't you mention something like that recently?"

"Yeah, that much is true... I'm apparently the 'Third Child'."

"Cool! And what about Ayanami?"

"She's the 'First Child'"

"...that's a weird way to refer to the pilot of a combat robot." Touji reckoned.

"Who cares! It's English and sounds cool!"

Shinji had previously wondered about said designation, but considering all the other strange details he'd had to put up in this place, he could hardly be expected to put this very high on his list of priorities... very little would surprise him anymore, considering that he already knew all too well that the EVAs were far from being mere robots – but even he could tell that he most likely wasn't supposed to tell them about that, and even if he did, it would probably just end with Kensuke vividly imagining a battle between an EVA and an actual robot, and presenting his ideas as a kind of one-man theater play reminiscent of his occasional recreational military role play.

"...but there's still something rather puzzling about that..." Kensuke continued his musings, after finishing his extensive praise of the supposed 'coolness' of EVA-piloting.

"Uh... What, exactly?"

"Well..." Touji added, apparently having picked up on it as well. "...I guess no one could blame you for neglecting our English classes when you're busy saving the world, but there is one number missing."

"That's right." Kensuke confirmed, holding around three fingers and using his other hand to play around with the middle one. "Whatever happened to the _Second _Child?"

"I... I've thought about that before..." Shinji admitted.

"...And?"

"That's it. I've wondered about the numbers, but that's all I could do. I've certainly never _heard_ anything about a 'Second Child'..."

It was not like they ever told him anything. "B-But we _are_ getting a new EVA, anyways..."

"For real?" Kensuke immediately responded with little stars in his eyes.

"I can hardly wait to see it! I'll have to film it in action... Who's going to pilot it? Do you think I've got a chance?"

"Why are you asking me that? I don't even know why _I _was picked... I guess Ayanami will do it. After all, her EVA was pretty badly damaged..."

"Or maybe it belongs to our mysterious Second Child."

"Could be. But, to get back to the deal with the Lemons... _Ikari? _Are you even listening?"

"O-Of course I am!" he assured, detaching his glance from Mitsurugi, whose father was eagerly waving goodbye to him just over the road.

"How about those limes again?"

"Lemons, Shinji, lemons."

* * *

><p>While Shinji continued on his way to school, his guardian was likewise approaching her own destination – on a hovercraft.<p>

Together with Dr. Akagi, Misato was sitting in the back of the flying vehicle, having spent most of her voyage being bored out of her mind. Now, however, their destination was in sight: Beyond the window, numerous abandoned skyscrapers could be seen, many of which weren't pointing straight up anymore.

It was a desolate sight.

"It's hard to believe that this used to be a florishing metropolis... It's just a testing ground now..." Misato commented, quite visibly wanting to be somewhere else, and not just because of the 'inviting' landscape.

Dr. Akagi, fairly equanimous by comparison, simply informed her friend that they were about to arrive – which did little to stop her from complaining: "Why did they have to pick this of all places... isn't the SSDF doing anything about this project?"

"The japanese military? No, they've been ordered to stay out of this."

Misato rolled her eyes, her words oozing with sarcasm:

"_Great! _So they can do anything they want!"

With every minute that went by, she found herself with less and less patience or motivation to suffer through the upcoming event, especially now, as their helicopter was about to land amongst the various other ones.

Once they entered the congress hall, Misato demonstratively went straight for the one table that wasn't littered with greasy food, pamphlets and promotional giveaways, and Akagi followed suit – She did, however, not pass up the chance to grab some drinks for her friend and herself.

To Misato, this was one of these pointless peripheral parts that were hiding behind even the least mundane of job descriptions, a needlessly boring matter of appearances, PR and being seen at the right places – that the ridiculous toy robot these people had concocted would never amount to anything should have been clear to begin with. The banners that were hung across each and every corner all read 'Jet Alone' – probably an allusion to the purely inorganic materials said plaything had been assembled from. For all Misato cared, they could have one one step further and named that thing for the primary motivations to which it owed its existence – 'Cash Alone'.

She just hoped that they would begin the presentation soon, so it could end all the sooner, while Dr. Akagi, who had shown up in a simple blue blouse and a very revealing skirt of matching color was already mentally arranging the words she planned to throw at the PR guy that would unavoidably be sent to deal with then – and speak of the devil, there he was, charming (read: slimy), well-groomed and wearing a suit that must have cost more that most people could attain with a month of hard work.

And then there was the voice – how long did he have to practice to make himself sound _this_ pushy?

"In the name of the Japanese Heavy Industry Association, I want to thank all of you for coming to our exhibition. We will now proceed to the control room where you will be able to observe the official demonstration, but first, are there any questions you'd like to ask?"

Before he had even finished closing his mouth, the first hand flew up into the air, a hand that had been waiting for its cue.

Of course, the PR guy immediately knew who he was dealing with:

"Ah, the famed scientist Dr. Akagi Ritsuko! I'm very glad see you here!"

"May I as my question then?"

The PR-man displayed his most skilful smile, most likely fine tuned to defusing tense situations.

"Absolutely!"

Dr Akagi wasn't impressed in the slightest and skipped traight to the point: "Is it true that your product is equipped with a nuclear reactor?"

"Exactly! This is precisely the great advantage of Jet Alone: It's internal power supply allows for over 150 days of continuous deployment!" he reported straight into multiple microphones, apparently very confident in his product.

Nevertheless, the fake blonde was already prepared for an immediate comeback: "But don't you think that a nuclear reactor in a land-based weapon intended for close combat is an untenable security risk? I don't think we need any more nuclear disasters in this country so soon after the last. "

"What we need even less is failing to prevent another Second Impact because are relying on a robot with a battery that runs out after just five minutes." he jeered without the slightest trace of shame or bashfulness, or even the tiniest creak in his well-practiced plastic smile.

"Yours is remote controlled. I'd hate to imagine what might happen if the signal were to get cut off in the middle of an emergency situation!"

But the salesman came prepared: "So you say? I'd dare to say that using a remote control is at least much more humane than a system that puts its pilot under severe mental and physical strain."

For must of the discussion, Misato had spent her time sucking at her straw in seeming disinterest. "...they're beginning to sound like toddlers..."

Meanwhile, the conversation was steadily growing more heated, although the PR-man, true to his profession, seemed to have an easier time maintaining an appearance of level-headedness.

"As I said, a remote control can always fail!"

"That can't be much worse than having another of your metal monsters running amok in the middle of the city." Glib as ever, the man in the man in the expensive suit pulled out a folder labeled 'top secret', garnished with an image that was far too familiar to Dr. Akagi and her colleague. But he wasn't even done yet, oh no, now he tried to make himself look all personable and attempt some humor: "A weapon that cannot be controlled is the very epitome of disaster – It's just like dealing with a hysterical woman. Don't we all sometimes wish we had a remote control to switch them off?"

And to add insult to injury, she was left standing amidst laughter and applause.

Now, at the very least, Dr. Akagi's capacity for poised professionalism was all but exhausted: "Our pilots and technicians have the EVAs under their control, _thank you very much!_"

"Or so you say." The salesman's stream of smug holier-than-though swank showed no sighs of letting up. "Do you really think that the human mind is capable of taming the beast that doubtlessly dwells inside every single EVA? Are you sure? Do you expect us all to bet our lives? Would _you?_"

Did he really think he was in any position to lecture them about ethics? The nerve! Dr. Akagi's facial muscles were not far from losing all semblance of composure: "Yes. I would."

Just when the thought she had managed to throw him off his routine with an unexpected answer, he instead aimed for the finishing stroke: "There we have it! It's exactly because you rely on such evidentially unreliable things like the human mind that this sort of dangerous and most notably _costly_ accidents keep happening at NERV. Just yesterday, the united nations had to pass yet another ginormous supplementary budget that could have saved 20.000 people from starvation! And when you ask why, all you ever get is 'The investigation was inconclusive'. It's just about time you took some responsibility! You should count yourselves _very_ lucky that your organization doesn't seem to be accountable to the law!"

But Dr. Akagi wasn't that easily silenced – There was still one more ace up her sleeve, and one he'd hardly be able to trump. She had not wanted to as much as allude to this in public, but this was _personal_ now, at very least since the sexist joke: "No matter what you say, the fact remains that only NERV has a weapon that can defeat the enemy!"

Alas, this was just what that cocky braggadocio had been waiting for: "You mean the AT-field? Don't worry. It's only a matter of time until we develop something similar. NERV's monopoly won't last much longer."

While the twitching of Dr. Akagi's eyebrow went increasingly out of control, the crowd around them erupted into cheers and applause.

Only Misato seemed relatively chill – which lasted just about until they found the way to the wardrobe.

"THAT ARROGANT, CHAUVINISTIC PIG!

HE _DARES_ TO PLAY THE STARVING CHILDREN CARD, WHEN EVERYONE _KNOWS _THAT ALL THESE INDUSTRIAL BIGWIGS CARE ABOUT IS TO GET THEIR OWN SLICE OF THE ANGEL EXTERMINATION CAKE! JUST _LOOKING_ AT HIS FACE MAKES ME SEETHE WITH THE URGE TO PUT MY SHOEPRINT IN IT! LIKE THIS! AND THIS! AND THIS!"

After she had scrunched up the prospect she had been given and stuffed it into the next best trashcan along with her plastic cups and a pair of USB sticks that supposedly contained further information, she had gone to vent her anger at the next best available target, namely the first locker that had crossed her field of vision, using it as a substitute for the PR-guy's face by kicking at it until it was all but demolished.

"He is just a tiny little man begging for attention; Don't give him more credit than he's worth." Dr. Akagi replied with a cold, evil smile while she fed the pages of the Jet Alone prospect to her lighter.

Misato briefly granted the locker some respite in order to turn around towards her friend.

"Then how the hell did he know about our AT-field?!" she complained, still livid.

"There is always a certain risk of information leaks."

"_Still! _Just what is the intelligence division doing?!"

* * *

><p>To enumerate what every single member of the division was doing would probably lead too far right now, but it probably sufficed to say that Asahina Najiko was standing at a terminal in one of the cylindrical towers adjacent to the very congress hall her two superiors were currently visiting, wearing disposable gloves, pressing a delete button before withdrawing the CD Dr. Akagi had given her earlier as soon as she had finished her work.<p>

She was using a CD instead of an USB stick because the former was easier to break apart and throw out of a window once it had served its purpose.

Expressionlessly, Asahina observed as the glittering pieces tumbled into the dephts, becoming playthings of the wind as soon as they her fingertips, set to become just a few more pieces of plastic among the multitude of dust, debris and glass shards that constituted the abandoned capital.

* * *

><p>In spite of all warnings, the Jet Alone demonstration was eventually commenced with, drawing the crowd of expectant businesspeople into an orderly line, into which they had gathered right at the Window to observe the spectacle, aided by an ample supply of binoculars that had been previously distributed as free advertizing gifts, complete with the company's logo.<p>

By contrast, Misato and Ritsuko were sceptically leaning on a nearby wall, the latter bearing a strange, cold smile as she listened to the men in the control center as they booted up their robot, led by the obnoxious smartass from before. They were deploying the signaling poles, adjusting various things and calibrating others, the usual fare when you tried to precisely control every tidbit of a far too complex process.

Next, they stirred up a big fuss as they announced that they were going to activate the walking program and activate the right foot – 'Slow walking mode, forward!'

Misato found her own private relief in imagining just how chaotic and disorganized this lot would quickly come to look if they were faced with a fast, intelligent angel.

She found it hard to believe that this walking nuclear bomb actually received applause for the great, mighty deed of being able to put one foot in front of the other without falling over right away.

The idiot in the suit barely seemed to believe it himself. Judging by his exaggerated expression, he might as well been surprised that his glorified tin can worked at all.

"Wow..." Misato commented disparagingly, having snatched a pair of binoculars from somewhere after all. "Their big toy can walk! I bet the boys must be very proud of themselves."

She thew a glance at her friend, hoping that she would join in in her mockery, but the scientist's face was unexpectedly serious – of course, Misato couldn't possibly have known just what she was waiting for...

And there it came, just on time.

It all started with a small beeping signaling an error to one of the consoles.

"What's the matter?"

"...Something's wrong. The pressure in the reactor just keeps on rising!"

"Same with the temperature in the primary cooling unit!"

"Open the valves! Inject auxiliary coolant into the reactor!"

"It's not working !The pumps aren't starting up!"

"Shut down all engines! Send the emergency shutdown signal!"

"Transmission of the shutdown signal confirmed!"

"Its not accepting! The communication system isn't working!"

"Jet Alone is out of control!"

"It's coming _this way_!"

The whole congress hall filled with a turmoil of voices that could have put a beehive to shame. The guests started screaming and panicking as the salesman from before did little more than stare at the screens in impotent disbelief while his product advanced toward the building, coming closer and closer with thundering steps until the screen was no longer necessary, because the construct rudely broke down the ceiling to deposit its intrusive feet in the middle of the hall, whose occupants had fortunately been gathered at the sides, leaving a piece of the ceiling atop a few demolished chairs as it kept marching onwards, unavoidably tearing holes into everything it trampled beneath its lubberly feet.

Coughing out the dust that had had rained upon them from the crushed ceiling, Misato looked up from the edge of the 'footprint'.

"That robot's manners are just as lousy as its builders'!" she resumed the events. "Now why am I not surprised?"

Meanwhile, whatever was left of the command center was busy concluding an imminent meltdown – the eyes of the man who had just been shilling his robot's supposed safety and reliability kept getting wider and wider. "How... how can that be?" He stuttered, still not quite admitting the events to the immediate present of his reality.

"Jet Alone's central computer was programmed to handle every possible emergency! This shouldn't be happening..."

"But it _is_!" Misato sharpy affirmed from below. "What do you plan to do to prevent a nuclear catastrophe?"

"Under these circumstances... all we can do is hope for a timely emergency shutdown..."

"What's the probability for that?"

"0,00002%... It'd take a miracle..." one of the technicians admitted.

For Misato, this was impossible to accept.

"I don't know about you, but I'd rather _do something about it _than pray for a miracle!" she announced furiously.

Her face and clothes were covered in dust and the consoles with the control panels far above her, but her commandeering tone was more than enough to establish that she was now in charge.

"Tell me how to shutdown that thing!" she demanded to know.

"We've already tried everything!" the representative retorted.

But Misato refused to take that for an answer: "No. There's _always_ the option to delete the entire programming. Give me the reset password!"

"The formatting password is top secret! There's no way I can just disclose it without a formal permit..."

"Then _**get **_**one!** GET A MOVE ON!"

* * *

><p>Misato, who had since transferred herself up to the command platform, observed with crossed arms as the representative fumbled his way through various phone calls.<p>

Apparently, not a single person in that company was man enough to take responsibility for this event, which kept them getting referred them to the next best stinking rich asshole with just as little concern for human life.

"Filthy bureaucrats!" Misato hissed contemptuously.

To think that this bastard had only just dared to speak about wasted resources – he might as well be squabbling away the minutes that could cost everyone within a radius of several kilometers their lives.

Meanwhile, his robot was blissfully marching towards Atsugi to gift ten thousands of people with ugly death by atomic mushroom.

At last, the professional big mouth, now substantially humbled, appeared to have reached some sort of agreement with his superiors and put down the phone. "Alright, now we just have to wait for the courier with the written permit, and-"

"We hardly have time for such nonsense! If that thing explodes, it's all over!

Sorry, but I'm going to handle this myself. You can keep waiting for a miracle if you feel like it!"

* * *

><p>"Hyuuga-kun?" Keeping her phone squeezed in between her head and her shoulder as she climbed out of her dress and walked past a disbelieving Dr. Akagi in the scant white shift she wore beneath, she did her best to waste as little time as possible. "...I've already informed the authorities in Atsugi. Send me Shinji-kun and Unit One in F configuration. Yes, this is an emergency."<p>

She hung up.

Her still fully clothed friend kept shooting her skeptic looks.

As far as she could tell, Misato seemed to have concocted another of her lunatic ideas. "Stop this, Captain Katsuragi. How do you expect to have a realistic chance at stopping this robot?"

As expected, Misato's foolhardy confidence wasn't dampened in the slightest as she proceeded to tie up her hair and press a button on the wall to reveal a gray and violet hazard suit that was originally intended for maintenance-related purposes.

"Simple. I'll do it with my own two hands."

* * *

><p>While the transport plane with EVA 01 on board was already on its way, the Jet-Alone representative was given yet another opportunity to gawk incredulously.<p>

"This is madness! If the heat doesn't kill you, the radiation will do it! It's far too dangerous!"

"Perhaps. But if I pull it off, everyone will be safe."

Both turned towards the now useless consoles when they heard a chinking noise – One of the technicians, apparently impressed by Misato's determination, had broken his console with an emergency axe marked with bright red varnish.

"If the signal gets cut off, the entry hatch can be opened manually." he explained.

"You'll find it on the back." another technician added as he worked to disconnect various cables.

"Hope."

Misato turned around in surprise – indeed, it was the once so overconfident flack who had spoken, although his new-found spine wasn't quite solid enough to look Misato in the eye.

"Hope. That is the reset password."

"Thank you."

"My pleasure. But honestly... How do you intend to pull this off all by yourself?"

"Not at all." She smiled. "Looks like I'll have to rely on our good, old 'unreliable' human mind. And believe me, I've trusted _that_ particular unreliable human mind with a lot more than my own backside... not literally, of course."

* * *

><p>And to think that this day had started out so nicely – When the ringing of the bell announced the onset of the second period, just as he was beginning to understand whatever Kensuke's point about those lemons had been, a handful of security personal had shown up at their classroom to escort both him and Ayanami to NERV HQ.<p>

The rest of the class, especially his pair of friends, had briefly waved them off, and the next thing he knew, they were telling him that EVA 01 had already been loaded onto a transport plane, and that he was to grab his plug suit and board said plane immediately – Since EVA 00 was still under repairs, Ayanami was ordered to remain on standby in the geofront.

Thus, he hurried over to the hangars, where he was being expected by Hyuuga, who explained that Misato had called in about some sort of emergency, and that not even he really knew what was going on. In any case, the angel alert hadn't gone off, no one had detected any AT fields, and oh – there was a halfway enclosed compartment in the back of the plane where he could change clothes and find some benches to sit on.

It all happened far too fast for Shinji to process.

No angel alert?

Oh, no doubt, if Misato said there was an emergency, there would surely be one – she might be a slob on par with the devils who inhabited whatever part of hell overzealous neat freaks were punished in, but as soon as things got serious, she typically quit the joking – the problem was more that this deviation from the typical proceedings left Shinji with very little idea of what to expect.

There very thought of an imminent battle made Shinji tense up considerably.

Whatever battle was waiting for him down there, it was just as uncertain as ever, if not more – so far, they hadn't told him a single thing about the enemy.

Shinji tried to calm himself down by harmonizing the rhythm of his breathing with the steady motions of removing and folding his clothes.

He tried hard to remember whatever it was he had done to survive the last few battles, but all he could think of was dumb luck, coincidence and blind panic.

Luck, coincidence, panic, and Ayanami.

It wasn't just her physical stunt with the shield – just having her present made a huge difference. He supposed that having Touji and Kensuke with him had helped in a similar way, although he wasn't particularly keen on repeating that part where he almost squashed them. If only he wasn't being deployed alone. In a way, having people rely on him was a dreadful experience as well, he didn't want that risk to disappoint or fail them, but when he thought of the last battle on the summit of the the Futagoyama, or even his first regular combat experience with the fifth angel, he was tempted to conclude that he had only persevered _because _he knew for a fact that people were relying on him.

He really didn't understand it.

All he knew for sure was that Ayanami wasn't here, and that this meant he would be alone on the battlefield once again. Wondering what she might do in this situation, Shinji put on his plug suit. Quite possibly, knowing whatever course of action she would pick would be of little use to him... he could easily match her in terms of synch ratio by now, but she had one important advantage that enabled her to do quite a few things that were impossible for him – She didn't seem to fear anything, at least not in battle.

He had noticed that she always seemed to bring his father's glasses into battle, and maybe that was part of what allowed her so be strong and sure of her actions, but when he thought of his old man, he felt anything _but_ strong and certain.

So he would have to come up with his very own way to do things one way or another.

(He didn't want to say 'battle style' or 'coping mechanism', the former implied some sort of pride or dignity, and the latter had implications that would not be productive to think about right now)

As he pressed the button on his wrist and felt the fabric of the plug suit tightly enveloping his body, he tried his best to force a serious, stoic expression onto his face.

The Third Child was ready for combat.

With nothing more left to do, he sat down and tried his best to squeeze the questions and worries out of his head until further notice.

When he finally heard nearing steps on the metallic cabin floor, he immediately looked up – and was surprised to find that it was Misato, who was wearing a form-fitting full-body suit of her own today, albeit one made of a significantly thicker material – her pronounced feminine curves were still easy to discern.

With those thick, padded soles, she looked even taller than she usually did.

She sat down on the bench opposite him, which he thought almost looked like she was going to climb into a battle machine of her own – which he soon found out wasn't all that far from the truth.

She looked directly into his eyes, and proceeded to provide a concise, apposite summary of their situation: "Our target is the nuclear-powered battle robot Jet Alone. There's a danger of meltdown in a little over five minutes. So we need to keep it away from any residential areas."

That was... quite a bit to take in from one moment to the next.

A battle robot? A _nuclear meltdown?_

"Hyuuga-kun?"

"Yes, Ma'am?"

Misato turned in the direction of the Cockpit and promptly began to hand out orders: "Get out of here as soon as you've launched the EVA. Climb to a safe altitude and circle the area until we've concluded the operation."

"Roger!"

She now addressed the Third Child: "Shinji-kun?"

"Yes?"

"Run after the target, put me down on its back and then do your best to hold it in place as long as you can."

Shinji could hardly believe his ears and stared at his guardian in alarm. "You want to _climb around_ on that thing?"

"Actually, I'm gonna climb into it." she corrected.

She couldn't possibly be serious about this!

Did she really just announce her intention to venture into a _superheated nuclear reactor_?!

Even the most mischievous of five-year-olds should be able to grasp why this was a very, very, _very_ bad idea. Radioactivity was this evil scary stuff with the shrill, yellow-black warning label associated with it – and since he was first acquainted with this important life lesson, Shinji had suffered the doubtful fortune of sitting through the occasional physics class where he'd been introduced to yummy details about how this phenomenon works and what it can do to you.

Shinji found it hard not to doubt whether she was truly sober right now.

"That's insane!"

"I know. But I still have to try it."

"But...! This is far too dangerous!"

"Don't worry, even if things go south, EVA 01 could easily withstand the explosion, and I've had it fitted with the extra-dense armor plates just to be sure. The radiation wouldn't even reach the plug."

"I don't _mean_ that! What about _you?_ All you have is a hazard suit..."

"I know that, too." She smiled as if to pass some of her temerarious boldness onto him.

"But I still have to try. Otherwise, I'd regret it forever."

Upon hearing this, Shinji's features solidified into an expression of determination – later he would come to realize that he had all but forgotten any inkling of fear for his own skin the moment he heard of Misato's mad venture... - No, the fear was still very much there, but his worry about her was a much stronger force that easily overshadowed the former.

By now, the Third Child knew well enough that trying to talk Misato out of an idea that had firmly lodged in her head was destined to be a fruitless endeavor – and let's face it, he would undoubtedly regret it just as much as her if he didn't do anything to stop this walking nuke.

Slob or no slob, he had to respect that courage of hers, her strong will to do what is right or at very least necessary when nobody else would, to use everything she had at her disposal to force paths into existence where others saw the end of the road.

If he were in her place, he would find himself held back by so many things, thwarted by fears and doubts, that is, if he would even be able to make out the faintest outline of a path to follow, but all of these things were far besides the point.

The point was that Misato was relying on him to help her with something that was important to her.

He _wouldn't_ be alone on the battlefield after all – Today, it was simply _his_ turn to be the one holding the shield, at least figuratively.

Four days ago, Misato had taken his hand into hers and shown him that he wasn't alone – and now, he would confirm to her that he wouldn't leave her alone either, that her trust in him was, at the very least, not _completely_ misplaced.

"Target sighted!" Hyuuga reported.

The time was near.

Indeed, Misato and Shinji just needed one glance out of the window to spot the ill-fated robot, marching across the landscape with its thin, white mechanical legs.

"Let's go!" Misato announced.

Shinji nodded back as a last confirmation and then, without any further delay, went to take his place inside the Evangelion while his guardian departed for her own spot between the phone booth sized fingers of the purple titan, while Hyuuga got ready to launch them without any need for further words.

Without ever really noticing a definitive moment of turnabout, they had grown to work as the interconnected pieces of a functioning team.

Holding on to the EVA's gigantic fingers, Misato gave the final launch order. At this point, he was sure that a cowardly person like he considered himself to be would never have her courage, but the least he could do was to do his part and contribute to the best of his limited ability like he had done of that mountaintop four days ago.

After he had made sure that he wasn't holding her too loosely or too tightly, he waited for the faint jolt to inform him that Hyuuga had released the last lock bolts and took the EVA's remaining not currently occupied three limbs off the rectangular frame It was contained in and let himself plunge into the depths.

EVA 01 shot towards the earth like a spear, shifting from a horizontal to a vertical orientation almost by itself, its lower half being blown backward as its pilot positioned its legs for the landing – its feet slid a few dozen meters forward and stirred up quite a bit of dust and debris, but Shinji himself was astonished how easy the landing had proven to be. He had some 'academic' knowledge of the fact that he had just descended from what by all means should be a terrifying height, but it had felt like a mere jump from a moderate height, enough to feel a dynamic firmness around the ankles, but not difficult at all, in fact, he started dashing forward out of the same motion, putting landscape behind him with an unfamiliar lightness. The battle against the blue, shape shifting angel had probably served as a sort of testing crucible from which he emerged in something of a tempered state – compared to what he went through four days ago, this here was a significantly easier task, he didn't feel nearly as tensed up and unable to think clearly as he did on the occasion of his very first EVA-related misadventure, making the EVA's feet carry out a running motion didn't even require his full, conscious focus anymore, he didn't have to think about what the feet were supposed to be doing, it was enough to focus on his goal and concentrate on reaching that damned robot and willing the distance between them to shrink further and further.

The sun over the abandoned city garnished both of the massive giants with long shadows; The robot, stomping ahead with steady, monotonous motion, throwing its limbs forward more than it was taking steps, and behind it, the EVA, with the same articulations as a human, leaning forward as it accelerated like a sprinting human would.

"I caught up!" Shinji realized, his face lighting up with a flicker of joy and weightlessness. It was working! So far, this was really going well.

"We have less than four minutes! Put me down!" Misato ordered over the intercom, this time not transmitting from headquarters, but the helmet of her hazard suit.

Shinji did his best to get a hold of the robot – and once he had a firm grasp on it, he invested every bit of strength and determination at his disposal in refusing to let go, leaning backward to make use of the EVA's immense weight, as much as that was possible without the hand that was currently occupied with transporting Misato.

His efforts were enough to keep the robot's feet stuck in place, but its arms kept carrying out their arc-like mechanical swinging – The force exerted by the motors striving to make Jet Alone's feet resume their motion was strong enough that the EVA's steadfast opposition resulted in its feet being pressed into the ground.

Needless to say, it wasn't exactly easy to keep the robot in place while carefully handling Misato at the same time, but he figured that this was as favorable an opportunity as he was going to get, so he still proceeded to carry out her order and lead the Evangelion's purple fingers over to the fidgety machine's entrance hatch.

He initial landing was successful enough, but beneath her, the robot's untiring engines continued to resist Shinji's attempts to hold it in place like an ornery hose trying to shake off its rider, and one of these jolts shook the mechanical creation before Misato had any chance to get the hatch open.

"_Misato-san!"_ Shinji cried out in shock, watching as she rolled off the mechanical giant's surface before he had any chance to do something without letting go of the robot – and witnessing how she barely managed to grab one of the metal rungs that formed one of two maintenance ladders on the back of Jet Alone and pull herself to safety.

Shinji exhaled in relief, well aware of the agitated pounding in his chest.

"Be careful..." He requested with a thin smile.

As usual, her preferred method of assuaging his worries was to make fun of them, boisterously sacrificing one of the hands she should have used to hang on to fling a V-sigh in his direction, before reaching for the opening mechanism of the main hatch.

This, at least, was a good sign, if she could still afford to act like a complete lunatic, she was probably uninjured.

What might have taken place if she had tumbled off a bit further from the ladder or reacted a split second to late didn't even bear thinking about – If that happened, he would have been lost for good...

Meanwhile, Misato herself was anything but pleased with what she found beyond the hatch – "This looks bad. I feel like I'm about to step into an oven..."

As she ventured into the figurative lion's den, the Jet Alone stubbornly refused to stay where it was, Shinji decided that it might be best if he got to the front of the robot to block its path, now that he had both arms available.

"_Stay where you are_, damnit!" he shouted, gripping the robot's torso with both arms and every bit of strength he could pull from the EVA's muscles with his current synchronization rate.

The results were... mixed.

On the one hand, the mechanical creation did stay in place, but he could still feel the building pressure under his hands as its engines pressed onward with nowhere to release the kinetic energy they were conducting – in the end, the internal pressure near one of the shoulder parts exceeded the maximum strain the material was able to hold in, and he was greeted by a geyser-like effusion of coolant vapor – Shinji immediately covered it with one of the EVA's hands, in part because he feared that radioactivity might escape through the leak, in part to get such an obvious reminder of the situation's severity out of his sight – but the reality was that this measly automaton might very well explode at any moment with his guardian still inside.

"Misato-san... hurry..."

She was certainly trying to.

Peering at the map of the robot's innards that the big-mouthed robot salesman had left her with, she ascertained one last time that she had indeed found the right place and smashed the glass between her and the emergency mechanism designed to get the thick steel door in front of her out of her way.

Finally, a ray of hope: At least the doors were working.

Rushing inside, she immediately pulled the key-card she had been given through its designated slit on what should be the primary computer terminal to activate it.

She booted up the terminal entered the reset code, which was, as expected, met with a request for the password.

Considering herself seconds from ending this spectacle once and for all, she typed it into the terminal and pressed enter.

But her only reward consisted of the word 'ERROR' written in red letters across the screen, accompanied by one of these endlessly grating, tinitus-like beeping noises she'd had more than enough of today.

"Error? How come?"

Assuming that she might' have it the wrong key in her hurry, she repeated the imput but again, to no avail.

"No doubt... someone must have tampered with the programming... This was deliberate sabotage..."

Misato barely had the time to formulate her conclusion when a sharp jolt went through the metallic giant, potent enough for Shinji to notice it, or at very least the much increased rush of vapor spraying out of the leak. Alarmed, he tried to cover the source of the escaping coolant with both hands, but it was no use – The rising pressure simply found itself another way out, shooting another jet of vaporized coolant out of the robot's back.

The last salvos of urgent warnings resounded both in the congress hall and inside the robot itself – They all understood that it could be too late at any minute now, and Misato, in particular, realized that she had only one option left: "Looks like I'll have to do this the old fashioned way. It's sink or swim now."

Given that she was currently in the main control room next to the reactor itself and had already eaten a nasty dose of radiation for that 'privilege', she decided that she might as well make use of it and moved to physically push the prone control rods back into the reactor. They were all part of single mechanism, so there was a good chance that all of them would automatically follow if she just managed to push one of them past the line that signified the automatic insertion of the others.

Misato pushed and pushed, leaning all her weight against the control rod, but it didn't seem to budge a single millimeter... or maybe it was.

Just a little, not enough, it was like having to push the weight of the entire wall, the mechanism was certainly not designed for manual operation.

Her teeth gritted, Misato kept pushing without respite until her muscles protested – if she let up, the rods might just slide back out, and even if they didn't, it was quite obvious that she didn't have a second to spare, a fact that was equally obvious to Shinji, who reacted with appropriate horror as further leaks seemed to burst open on all seams and articulations of the robot to expel further coolant vapor into the atmosphere – it was quite apparent that every single bit of coolant inside Jet Alone had reached its boiling point and the volume it had readily occupied in its liquid state was far too small to contain all of it in its gaseous form – and the more of it escaped, the more of it pressed against the robot's hull from within, the less there was to stabilize its core of uranium rods. Even if the robot didn't burst apart on him, it was only a while until the contents of the uranium liquified, melted their way through the metal shell encasing them and disappeared into the ground to disseminate their death-bringing poison.

"Misato-san, get out of there!" he exclaimed, but Misato didn't think of escaping – if that robot were to explode, any attempt to get away from the blast zone would be futile at this point. "Move already, you useless piece of junk!" she cursed in exertion.

She could feel the heat that had been oppressive to begin with raising even further, squeezing the sweat out of her pores, and she knew that the radioactivity levels were most likely following suit.

Just a little bit further, and she should trigger the automatic latching mechanism, just a little bit...

Jet Alone's hull groaned under the strain from it's internal pressure, even with more and more geysers of coolant shooting out of it.

Shinji became all too aware how small and fragile a single human being was in this kind of situation – She was currently in the center of something could quite possibly depopulate this entire swatch of land, and there was nothing he could do to get to her without risking to set off the blast... Misato...

He couldn't think of anything other than her and how she would be blown into oblivion if this damned tin can were to explode.

"Misato-san!" he cried in horror, with tears in the corners of his wide open eyes.

Back in the congress hall, they were already expecting the meltdown to occur at any moment, and although Misato was pushing with all her strength, the control rods that had been their last hope refused to budge for that last strip of distance that would've meant their salvation – In short, everyone involved was far too preoccupied to pay attention to the screen of the primary computer terminal when the error notice disappeared and a few rows of undefined numbers flashed across its screen instead – Misato found herself tumbling to the floor when the control rods she had been leaning on unexpectedly gave way and slid into the wall and the reactor beyond it.

Exhausted as she was, Misato immediately faced up to follow the rods with her eyes – Indeed, they had slid in.

But would they still do any good at this stage?

Fortunately, yes.

It worked, probably a lot better than a supposedly out of control machine should be able to.

The red emergency lights deactivated and left the inside of the robot to an unreal green.

Observed by Shinji's uncertain eyes, Jet Alone orderly shut down, the vapor jets ceased, the antennas were retracted and when Shinji let go of it, its legs lost a fair bit of their tension now that the engines weren't pressing them onwards.

"SHE DID IT!" one of the technicians first dared to shout.

The congress hall filled with a storm of rejoicing and exultation, there wasn't a single person who didn't at least sigh in relief, even the PR-guy had a genuine smile on his face.

Only Ritsuko was leaning on the wall without displaying any major gestures.

"...that madwoman..."

So, the day was saved and the population of the surrounding few kilometers had nothing to fear anymore – the colossal silhouettes of both the robot and the cyborg had fallen silent, and only one question remained in the minds of the onlookers: Had the foolhardy loon whom everyone in the surrounding area ostensibly owed their lives to actually survived her venturesome deed?

"Misato-san?!" Shinji yelled into the intercom, almost hysterically. "Are you allright? Misato-san!"

"Well, to be honest, I've really had better days..." she spoke from the human creation's dark interior.

She was leaning against a wall and beginning to feel the effects of the radiation now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

Shinji was deeply relieved.

For all her laziness and all their occasional arguments, he really wouldn't know what to do without her.

"Oh I... I'm so glad you're allright, Misato-san! So glad... I can't believe you actually did it! I underestimated you! It's truly a miracle...!"

As much as Misato appreciated the fact that she was still in one piece and that any danger of radiation-related calamities had been awaited, she was now pretty certain that she didn't deserve all of the credit...

* * *

><p>"So, how are you feeling?" Hyuuga asked, concerned.<p>

"Better. I don't mind if you concentrate on flying... If it puts your mind at rest, I do plan to take a little detour to sickbay once we arrive at headquarters."

Misato, whose hair was still sticking to her sweaty face, had since disposed of the helmet belonging to her hazard suit and laid down on one of the benches in the compartment where they had also held their mission briefing.

Although she was positively exhausted, she took great care to placate both her assistant and her young ward a warm, but tired smile. "Don't worry boys, bad weeds grow tall."

Even now, she felt responsible to make sure 'her boys' didn't worry themselves too much.

Shinji however, was kneeling at her side, still dripping wet with LCL because he had only just climbed out of his entry plug. Today, it was his turn to hold _her_ hand.

* * *

><p>"The recovery of unit one was successfully concluded. On-site analysis revealed that next to no radiation was leaked. Aside from Captain Katsuragi's intervention, everything proceeded just as planned." Dr. Akagi discribed, matter-of-factly, like this kind of hazardous sabotage was her everyday business.<p>

Ikari, who was slouching over his desk as usual, spoke to address both the scientist and Asahina from the security division who was also standing infront of the afore mentioned piece of furniture after they had finished their report.

"Good work. Asahina-kun? You are dismissed."

The woman in black exuded a quiet "Yes, Sir." and left the room with little production of sound, all the while slipping her hand into the left pocket of her Blazer.

It was only when the automatic door closed behind her that she pulled out what her thin, spider-leg fingers had been grasping and eyed it with a brief, dispassionate gaze.

It was an old photograph, slightly crumpled at the ending, displaying three people at what appeared to be a wedding, although unassuming young girl of fifteen or sixteen years could easily have been overlooked in favor of the coruscant newlyweds – she was purpusefully standing aside to let them take the center of the picture, a plain and homely young thing with two shoulder-lenght braids of dark brown hair, clothed in an unostentaneous combination of a long-sleeved black blouse and a long plaited skirt in the same color as if to help her fade into the background – despite the festive ocassion, she did not seem particularly joyfull.

The only thing about her that might have stuck out were her youthfully large dark green eyes, allthough this wasn't enough to keep the happy couple from overshadowing her.

The groom, in particular, wasn't helping her cause with that shoddy dark red suit he was wearing, as if he were purposely intending to stick out like a sore thumb – most of the people working at NERV HQ, however, might have found his face much more eye-catching than his getup, for they might have felt that they were looking an an older version of the Third Child. The groom was probably twice his age at last, but the resemblance was all the more striking – Very few other people on this chain of islands had this sort of deep-set mindnight-blue eyes. If it weren't for the age difference, they could have been alike enough to get confused, allthough a closer look gradually revealed the disparities – His skin was darker, his face more rugged, the part in his hair and the few strands that fell into his forehead were arranged somewhat distinctly despite the overall resemblance of their hairstyles, and even if the young EVA pilot might very well have some further growth spurts ahead of him, it was unlikely that he would ever reach this man's type of tall, broad-shouldered stature, and last but not least, the groom's body language and overall demeanor were very different from the Third Child's: He had his right arm tightly wrapped around the hips of his beautiful young bride, not just as a predatory gesture to mark her as taken, but like he had no intention of ever letting go, slinging a frivolous grin at the camera.

His new wife was the exact opposite of him, slender, long limbed and of pulchritudinous shape, her fair skin barely contrasting with her elaborate white dress – and this was all that could be said about her, since the part of the photograph that corrresponded to her face had been scratched with a thin, sharp object byond the point of recognition.

Asahina shot a cold glare teeming with old wrath at the picture, then the door behind her, then back at the picture, and stuffed it back to where she had pulled it from after meticulously folding it twice.

Then, she left.

On the other side of the door, Dr. Akagi had finished yet another report, one that hadn't been intended for the other woman's ears: "I have already requested the related document from Golghata Base. I think that I'll be able to present you with a method of locating our little problem pretty soon."

"Very well. Either way, continue with the regular search efforts for now."

"That goes without saying. But all of that aside... you've only just returned. Don't you feel like... doing something a little more... _relaxing_ after the long journey?"

Ikari felt briefly tempted to sigh, but concluded that it wasn't worth it.

Without the slightest reaction, he remained sitting in his usual pose.

"Not now. I will see you at wenty-two hours in the usual place."

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

><p>But as exciting and instructive as it might be to participate in an action-movie like attempt to stop a nuclear meltdown and marvel at Misato's heroic deeds as she did the same, the next morning, the typical everyday proceedings of the Katsuragi household went on as usual, and this involved Shinji being the first to rise and put on his uniform, and the only one to bother with providing himself and the other inhabitants with anything resembling breakfast.<p>

He had long since recognized any attempt to get Misato to stick to their initial already pretty unfair distribution of tasks as a long cause, and he felt sorry for the resident penguin who hadn't done anything to deserve the piles of dirt and unpalatable sludge that would result from him refusing to do Misato's work.

So he surrendered himself to his fate, filled up PenPen's food dish and preemptively placed a can of cool beer on the table to await the bird's mistress.

He might as well acquire himself some cookbooks, if he was ever going to eat anything other than toast and junk food in this house. But for today, he chose to content himself with munching on the usual piece of toast as he pondered today's obligatory weird dream.

Lately, they seemed to be... accumulating, almost as if they meant to draw his attention to something, perhaps something that was still just about to happen, something major... this night, the dream had turned upon itself four times in a row as he rolled around in his bed, at times intersecting or switching between each other, and there had been that other vision that was ostensibly distinct from the one's he'd had so far, but still carried that ame telltale tinge of déjà-vû with it that had accompanied the others... he had seen himself standing in some vague, undefined location, beneath a bright blue sky, surrounded by a circle of familiar people: Misato, Ayanami, Touji, Kensuke, Dr. Akagi, the class representative, even PenPen, Hyuuga and the other two bridge technicians – and even people that he hadn't recognized and had only shadowy recollection of, but hadn't triggered any bells of unfamiliarity or newness within the context of the dream – there was a young man with a face full of stubble, for example, or this vaguely familiar looking tall woman who had been standing next to his father, although he still wasn't sure whether the person standing at his side wasn't simply Ayanami, whose height his chaotic subconcious had gotten mixed up somehow. The actual 'plot' of the dream didn't involve that much happening, just all of them congratulating him for something he couldn't really remember, but it had all felt really meaningful at the moment, like those words were so much more. Maybe it was his birthday or something? In any case, he distantly recalled words of gratitude and parting afterward, but it was basically over at that point. The other four visions had taken place exactly like they usually did, red streak of blood on the sky and all. The first two had continued the motif that seemed to have emerged in the last few days, each of them presenting him a pretty girl that was unfamiliar and yet not, none of which he had recognized or showed up a second time, the first had been fairly tall, if not as much as the one in the pink plug suit, had long, raven hair and wore thin-framed, round glasses, the other had short, reddish-brown hair and showed up in a drenched white dress that betrayed much of her youthful body, claiming to be his girlfriend. The third vison also followed that pattern, but once again presented him with a translucently-blue ocean instead of a red one, perhaps to match the azure neckerchief of the young woman that woke up next to her – unlike the others, she was not a teenager around his age, but in her early twenties, although her petite stature and cheerful personality had relativized that somewhat. While she had a bright disposition and soon implored him to consider how good it was that 'all of it' – whatever it was that had taken place to make the barren wasteland around them into what it was now – was finally over now, there was something about her that kept her from completely opening up in his presence, a slight tension in her body language, a clam component in her cute, girlish voice, a heavy shadow that she couldn't quite conceal behind the sparkles in her eyes, despite her conscious efforts to keep it down – it might not be something that might be noticed right away, but somehow, he knew where to look for it, and it bore a terrifying resemblance to fear. And there was another thing... he was pretty certain that he was seeing this particular waterfall of long, brown hair for the first time, but there were some parts about her face that looked ridiculously familiar. Not even in a distant, ominous meaningful way, but the most profane variant possible, like something that stared him in the face every day at school. Something about those dependable-looking, chocolate brown eyes, her nose and her cheekbones, just generally most of the lower part of her face.

More curiously still, despite the very obvious sensory shape she presented to him in sight sound and touch, something felt at odds with the idea that she should be older than him. The idea of it tasted far-fetched at wrong even in the salty, bloody wasteland of his dream-scape, even though it should have been he other way around – the only way he was ever going to be younger than her was in the manner of someone who was long dead, but remained forever frozen in memory as they were on their last day, like... yes, exactly like an older sibling who had died at a young age, so long ago that the younger ones had reached the adulthood they never got to live, and that particular idea tasted like irony and bitterness and gentian roots, as far as ideas could even be said to posses something like a smell and taste...

In the fourth dream, however... he woke up next to a _boy, _drained and exhausted from the storm on intensity brought on by the variety of mad visions and emotions he had been put through, for so long he had consciously noticed that he was dreaming and unsuccessfully tried to wake himself again and again as he was being jerked around in these waves of images and feelings like an elastic rubber ball thrown by some ambitious god – He should no longer even have cared whose face he would next have the misfortune to glimpse, but he _did_, and erupted into tears as much from joyful bliss as from utter depletion.

And the other boy in the sand, whose tired smile suggested that he was just every bit as worn out as Shinji himself, just reached out one pale arm, weakly touched his cheek with a kind worshiping tenderness, and spoke a single sentence with a voice like an ancient lyre:

"I forgive you."

Fortunately – or was it? – the sound of a door opening distracted him before he could continue musing on whatever all of this was supposed to imply about him – his attention was quickly occupied by the doorway and the half-naked woman standing in it, as usual, unkempt, grungy and unabashedly scratching her stomach area.

She then proceeded with the usual ritual consisting of a half-hearted greeting, slurping down her can of beer and celebrating her new state of ridiculous drunkness with an exaggerated cry of joy.

"Weeell..." she continued in sing-song, suddenly manifesting an almost traumatizing cheerfulness now that she was properly drunk and on her way to grab yet another beer can. "It's shi-sha-shower time! Have you seen any clean bras and panties laying around somewhere?"

Shinji didn't bother with an answer, instead settling for a disgruntled to distinctly irked expression as he hurried to get his breakfast over with and escape her oozing aura of sticky, palpable _embarrassing_. Sure, when it came to preserving peace on earth, she could at least _pretend_ to be a reasonable, professional adult, but apparently, she didn't deem her presence worth bothering to behave at least a little more presentably than your average hobo – the renewed knowledge that she was very much capable to look cool and heroic if she wanted to just made it all worse.

So it came that the Third Child still looked visibly displeased by the time Touji and Kensuke showed up to pick him up, which quickly managed to turn their widely grinning faces _("GOOD MORNING, IKARI-KUN!")_ into expressions of confusion.

"Good morning..." he replied, not completely successful at concealing his sour mood. "I'm leaving now!"

"Have a nice day~~!" it promptly resounded from the direction of the kitchen where a particular half-naked woman refused to divert any effort to concealing her pretty overt state of drunkenness.

Shinji was anything but overjoyed and made sure to get out of there before he ended up being subjected to any more public humiliation, although such an event might just have made his friends comprehend why he didn't share their enthusiasm.

When asked whatever he'd been escorted out for on the day before, he proceeded with a rough description of what had transpired. As usual, their reactions remained very predictable:

"So we can now again bask in the light of another day thanks to the heroic of efforts of the glorious miss Misato~~ You should have told us right away!"

"Misato-san is really impossibly cool~~!"

"And so sexy~~!"

"That's what I thought at first, but you have _no idea_ how she acts at home!" Shinji openly complained with a degree of sincerity that would have been unthinkable just a few weeks ago. "Once she takes off her uniform, she's nothing but a frowsy, lazy slob, and really, really uncool... and she doesn't seem to have the slightest bit of shame about acting that way right in front of me!"

"Wow! I really envy you." Kensuke stated, defying logic hard enough to make Shinji stop in his tracks. Didn't he just go out of his way to explain how living under Misato's roof was anything _but _enviable?

"Sorry, but I really don't get why you would say that..."

A sentiment that Kensuke seemed to share from the opposite side of the mirror - "You really _are_ a baby, Ikari!"

"Hell yes!" Touji added, crushing Shinji's hopes that at least he could be expected to sport a remotely reasonable reaction.

"Explain."

Kensuke smiled. "She's showing you a side of herself that no one else gets to see. That's very much like family. She wants you to see her like she really is."

Swiftly floored, Shinji looked at his friends with unintended astonishment.

He had never really looked at it this way – there he was all along, wondering if he was any more than a job assignment to her, when the answer had been right under his nose.

A relieved, hearty smile spread on the boy's face as he hurried to follow his friends on their way to school.

The sun shone, the birds sang, and Shinji marveled as a a heady sense of happiness permeated his body like the warm daylight on his skin.

Before he had come to Tokyo-3, he wouldn't have thought that feeling alright could be this pleasant. Surely he would have stuck to his suspicious that this was one of these vastly overrated things about which the reports were too greatly exaggerated to match what could be expected exist in this world, at least according to his experiences so far.

He still couldn't quite say why he had stayed here, and he no longer had any illusions that this would be a question for which he would soon have an answer, let alone one that was remotely comfortable. He had, at the very least, decided that he could ask himself later – right now, he wanted to be on this piece of the sidewalk, he needed to be in this body to feel and experience the sounds of the morning and the outline that could be felt as the breeze tugged at its edges.

It wasn't like he had suddenly started to believe that he would definitely master the tasks ahead, or even manage to succeed at all, but it would sure be nice if he _did_ pull it off in the end... not that he thought of the events that had transpired as any less unpleasant than he did the day before, but they had led to other things, other meetings, other images, thoughts and experiences that had piled up exponentially over the last few weeks... EVA 01, Neo Tokyo-3, Touji, Kensuke, Ayanami, Misato... even his father as he spoke the words 'Proceed at your own discretion.'.

Having all of this was... kind of nice.

Shinji never had any of these things before, none of what he had managed to scrape together for himself in spite of all the adversity, like a weed breaking through asphalt – A purpose, a home, a pair of loyal friends he could turn to, somebody to long for, a semblance of family, and even a goal to strive towards...

Until now, he had always been all by himself, aimlessly going through the motions as he drifted through days, months and years.

But not anymore.

If there was anything remotely encouraging he could say about the imminent journey he had just hoisted upon himself, then it was that he wouldn't be alone on this path.

So it came to pass that Shinji finally reached the decision to, at the very least, give this whole world-saving business a good try.

What made him do it would remain yet another of the many omissions, unspoken secrets, and ambiguities which populated his new workplace, but much, much later, he would arrive at the uneasy admission that the moment he held his father's letter in his hands, he had first felt something that he had never known before in his old life, but had offered him numerous chances to get acquainted – the sweet, sweet fragrance of hope.

* * *

><p>Silence so complete and abject it could only exist where nothing living plotted its ending in all of its dominion.<p>

Expanses of cleft swathes of land made of black, burnt-out rock, the occasional reminders of civilization poking out here or there, among then rigid, cross-shaped monoliths resembling Evangelions in varying states of destruction, although they didn't resemble any particular model Shinji would have recognized at this point... and far beyond, yet visible right above their peaks were the lights of the milky way, too many to ever be counted, so numerous they just melted into one single, diffuse streak covering the blood-stained blackness above, sparkling brighter than they ever did in hundreds of years, now that all artificial lights that could have drowned them out had been extinguished.

In the landscape below, chunks of steel and concrete could be glimpsed, horizontal, uprooted scraps of buildings too far removed from, or even recognizable for the purpose they had once served to even be called ruins, but their sight paled before the very worst details in this picture of desolation, the apparently randomly scattered pieces of a woman's torn flesh, petrified evidence of its once half-melted, now bizarrely frozen daliesque state, flesh melting off bones, bones bending like rubber where their obdurate should have broken, tatters of a corpse that dwarfed all mountains, pieces of a woman that covered the eyes of the earth as it wept. That piece at the outermost corner of his vision, he thought, was an arm; The flesh-mound in the distance, straddled by the ocean, looked like one half of the head.

Only the red, red ocean bore any resemblance to the world Shinji was used to, and all it did was let its waves sweep back and forth in a long tethered motion, enclosed into itself and content with the space it occupied – By now, he hardly even needed to open his eyes to describe every single corner of this wasteland, he could say, with quite a bit of confidence that was still useless to reassure him, that every tiniest facet of this place had burnt itself into the squishy inside of his skull – and right upon seeing it, he could assuredly conclude that he was dreaming _yet again_, there was not even a delay anymore.

He just hoped that he would be having one of the less unpleasant versions tonight.

One of those visions where he was here with someone else – Yes, he did want company, but when he thought of it, he was a lot less sure of _what_ kind of company he wanted his subconscious to summon up that he had been on most of his visits to this realm – just a while ago, he could have thought of _all kinds_ of things he was lacking, but by now, he had found many of those in a place where he didn't have to retreat into his dreams to find them. People that would walk through life at his side weren't so scarce anymore as to be like water in a desert, that he would be in this desert here, occupied with the activity of yearning for them. In that sense, he could almost grant himself a thin, refreshing layer of leeway in the oppressive humid stench of this place, a measure of curiosity about just what might be awaiting him this time, like it had become a pastime experiment and less a clawing for sustenance – someone _new_ would be nice. Something fresh and virgin that he hadn't seen before... how aboutt something exciting, something a little more challenging for once?

Shinji could hardly believe that his heart could even harbor such a wish, but in the end, this were his dreams, and they would be over soon enough. After what he had lived through until today, he felt _ready_ to be challenged, perhaps not exactly shouting for the universe to bring on the next level, because that, he would never be, and not feeling such vainglory nor ever thinking of seeking it was perhaps one of the few points where he might have had an insufficiency _less_ than what you commonly label as a hero, but he felt that if challenges could not be avoided, he wouldn't mind it if they came now, so he could go back to his quiet and his peace when they were gotten over with.

So he opened his eyes, and as always, his first glimpse was the only firmly-entrenched constant in his place, an ever-solemn apparition of a girl standing on the surface of the water.

As in every iteration, she would just stand there and stare down at him like an angry ghost, and left him struggling to explain how this image of a person who looked like Ayanami, dressed like Ayanami and took a posture that was all too common for her could fail to trigger any sense that it _was_ her, to the point that he found himself lamenting the difference where there was none to be discerned, curled up like a tiny, unnoticeable dimension beneath height, depth and breadth, but still enough to feed his nigh delusional certainty that this faint specter neither would, not should mesh with his thoughts and ideas of the girl who had smiled at him when he came to her rescue in an event whose age had, at the current point in time, almost reached a week, and as he still pondered why she defied comprehension, the transient image dispelled itself before his very eyes as it had done many times before, enough for him to expect for it to happen and even wait it out before deciding to move, although his motion of sitting up lend into one of looking around for her to see if she had left any trace, a sentimental endeavor half-rooted in habit that he had long known to be futile for quite a while now, but it felt like a question of breaking a promise to not do for her what he would do for anyone else and not assume that she had disintegrated into thin air, and besides, the best way in which to pay her basic respect that he could think of right now, not that he had any delusion that his inconsistent fumblings were of any more use to him than a rain dance around a suspiciously human-like personification of its power to replenish and aliment the land was as a 'thank you' to the clouds, but these weren't the target of his actions, and even if he might get accused of just wanting to calm his own selfish mind, it just didn't feel right to say nothing at all.

He, too, accused himself, the curse of awareness made him feel these reasonable doubts very keenly, and knowingly used his newfound propensity to hope to dearly wish they were unwarranted, perhaps shamefully – the word _prayer_, however, was probably the one furthest from his current thoughts, first because he had never believed in this kind of thing, and second because he if he had come back here, then only because he was sufficiently convinced that he didn't want to become a part of an enveloping goddess' Christ-Body even if such a thing could be made reality.

Some of those who wouldn't boil with a wish to hack off his head for what he had done might come to call him a savior, and this was probably what the self-appointed holy mother had in mind, but as far as the only truth of his own was concerned, it was his debt to know that he was at most the lowly Magdalene, unworthy to even spill his endless tears on the true star of his hope, unmistakably a sinner, and yet the one she had come to chose. She had granted him a request alright, but he hadn't asked her to be his goddess – She could have been everyone's goddess, but only he could be her chosen one, and in their mingling conceive what would become the zygote of a brand new world that was yet beginning to emerge from its amniotic fluid, and yet, was already destined to become just as tainted as the union that had brought forth this second genesis, their star-crossed embrace in the heart of a dying world.

And this was nothing more than what he had wanted – his taint was his taint, his own rock would be his own business, and he would gladly roll it all the way back to the top of the mountain, this time, bitterly weighed and deliberately chosen.

This meant, of course, that now was the point in time where he usually realized that he had been staring past the silhouette of a girl, and indeed, there she was, the first inhabitant of this new Eden – Just like the first one, it stank of various organic molecules like it hadn't done for countless billions on years, and like all previous creations, it reached its pinnacle with a man, a woman and a promise waiting to be broken – Until now, he had served his exile in perfect silence, but now, it was his turn to bite into the fruit and chew it hard, for only when the first words between two separate people would be spoken and everything he had attempted to banish from this world had made its return that the final sanction would truly be undone.

And what an opulent harvest the foliage did reveal, of the ripest, most tempting red that his primate ancestors had developed that extra green receptor for, bright, yet deep like the color of blood and the red, red sea – a girl wrapped in a thin peel of plug suit rubber and a occasionally, layers of bandages that curiously seemed to mirror the pattern of injuries Rei had sported upon their first meeting. Beyond all doubts, she had what TV, magazines and other popular media would describe as a perfect body, but it wasn't Misato's kind of warm, playful sex-appeal or Rei's ethereal, unearthly beauty that would have been fit for a greek goddess, but the extremely alluring, provocative yet coldly unattainable type of attractiveness one would associate with a model or an actress, and she might as well have been one: She was extremely thin, there was not a single gram of misplaced fat anywhere on her body, her slim waist obviously a product of the same rigorous, nigh self-flagellating discipline that must have created her long, athletic limbs, which were probably covered in the same light, yet rosy skin that was visible on her inhumanly spotless plastic barbie doll face, framed by long, lustrous hair in a baked martian red, whose every dainty motion gave rise to new waves of effervescent lust – Her breasts were even smaller than Rei's an were shaped more mounds than hemispheres and barely filled out the protective plates embedded into her plug suit, but it was precisely this half-revealed and easily uncoverable state that made them all the more titillating.

Her eyes, however, were cold, icy blue and wide open to brim like those of a dead fish.

Now there wasn't a single language on this planet that could have described the impulse that overcame Shinji when he saw this girl. He was shocked at his own thoughts, twitching and screaming within the prison of a head that wasn't completely his own in this dream world. He was so repulsed and disgusted that he could have thrown up right on the spot, but the vomit just wouldn't come.

In its place came abyssal hatred, cold as liquid nitrogen – This girl, this complete stranger... he wanted to _do_ something to her, to make her _hurt_, he was completely overtaken by a tar-like, black urge to sully and depredate her, to _touch_ her no matter whether she wanted or not, fuck her, fuck whatever _she_ wanted!

He wanted to mangle her, to sink his very own teeth into her flesh until he could feel the salty-metal taste of her blood all over the inside of his mouth.

He felt his tears building up below his eyes – she _did_ come after all.

She had come here, because she had need of him, because she had use for him, because she had spend all that time pining for his presence as much as he had languished in hers, because she had noticed the absence his voice in the endless choir of the millions and missed it enough to follow after him – And yet, she had always rejected him and reveled, even _basked_ in every ounce of pain she had caused him, spewed forth lies in the shapes of both words and kisses from her pretty, pink-lipped little mouth that always seemed ready to lick up his blood like it was the nectar of her life, and always, _always_ weaponized that shell of hers to taunt him, until he had finally gotten himself what kept withholding, to the sight of her vain, shallow ornamental artifice of a husk.

_Enough._

With a sudden, fluid motion of his arms, his hands constricted around her neck and pressed down with all of their force.

He would give all of her counterfeit gaudiness to the maggots, her smooth, slight neck, the her perky breasts, the long, speckles calves, every single one of her pavonine, vainglorious wonders, so he would never, ever, _ever_ have to see any of them _ever_ again.

_Now_ she came to him? _Now _she dared to throw herself beside him, like she had done it before, to ask for the comfort and consolation she had always coldly denied him?

She had once told him that she wouldn't want anything to do with him even if he were the last man on the whole damn planet, and now it was _her_ who had sought him out after the end of everything, and instead of delivering on her own damn promise, she came to him, out of pure self-serving necessity, and voicelessly asked for a love that wasn't even worth a few damn words to her, and never had been.

_Oh no, you don't!_

Not this time, not ever again.

Devoid of mercy or pity, Shinji clenched down on all the little blood vessels and air passageways of this supposed stranger, greedy to squeeze the very last and dying breath from everything he'd ever dreamed. Now it was his turn to repay her with the same cruelty she had mocked him with when he still would have given everything to be with her forever, taking his sweet time to take his revenge for every ever so tiny quantum of pain she had ever inflicted on him.

…wait a minute, 'everything he'd ever dreamed'?

'be with her forever'?!

What... what exactly was he even doing right now?!

He... he didn't even know this person, for crying out loud, and neither did he recognize himself.

Why on earth would he _ever_-

There was something warm on his cheek.

The girl's bandaged hand, which had slowly yet fatefully been lifted up while he was too lost in his intensity to notice before was now softly sliding over his cheek in what was almost a caress, just like he had wished it would time and time again.

His grip loosened.

At first, this was all that happened, but then, softly yet violently, Shinji broke down into sobs and tears like a collapsing house of cards.

His very soul just flat out imploded, leaving only a wretched bag of meat.

There was just nothing left of him anymore.

Everything that had once resided in this form, given it structure, substance or drive had been smashed, bashed in and thoroughly broken.

He was just completely and utterly dilapidated.

His tears dropped onto the stranger's face, who icily darted her dead eyes over to his face without the slightest hint of emotion, and in the coldest possible voice a human throat could produce without violating the laws of physics, she spoke two words:

"_How disgusting."_

Like a masterfully crafted sword wielded by a righteous executioner, those words pierced Shinji's soul, his dream and his sleep – Swathed in sweat, he sat up, his whole body shaking and refusing to be calmed.

He felt terrified, somehow, of the very room he was in, its very corners like a claustrophobic constriction bursting with used-up air, its very walls dripped with a sense of menace, like the space itself was haunted, rightfully possessed by something that wasn't him, whose heavy, suffocating dampness of the summer night weighed on his chest.

He felt he needed to get out of here, out to where he could have air, out of the place where space belonged to her, was steeped in her, whatever 'her' was supposed to mean, in his internal chaos of half-awake agitation, all manner of words became little more than unprocessed strings of sounds.

Driven by a force he didn't understand, she jumped from his bed and stormed from the room in a frenzy of clumsy, undignified haphazardness and a diffuse name forming a suffocating lump in his throat. In hindsight, he was very lucky that he didn't stumble over his own feet, when he pulled the door open, slammed it shut behind his back with a defensively-blocking posture where he leaned his weight against the closed door forming a brief intermediate before he continued his confused shreds of flight and the ugly aftertaste sticking to his palate.

Afterward, he couldn't say why he would seek to find safety there of all places, but his agitated pace continued until he found his way to the mostly empty, dark an dusty room where Misato kept her rarely used cleaning supplies.

It was here, between boxes and brooms, and bizarrely even more constricted space than in the room he had bolted from, that his loud breathing and throbbing heart could finally be persuaded to calm down.

_What a singularly horrific nightmare. _

He couldn't help but shudder from head to toe, in part to keep his blood from curdling from the sheer horror of the still very confusing experience.

For starters, _why_?

Why would he have this nightmare now, when everything seemed to have been on its way up so far?

He didn't understand. He hadn't understood this all along, nothing at all.

Why did he have to experience this of all sudden, when he felt like he was on his way to 'solve' those dreams, but now, he'd been struck with this version so much worse than even most the earlier ones, which made it all too clear that he was still very far from figuring out just how those dreams worked or why they plagued him, what they were... trying to tell him, if such wordings were even applicable to the world he now lived in.

Even though he still felt a distinct shiver when he entered back into the shadows and found himself hesitating to close the door, Shinji had no choice but to get back to his room and try to get back to sleep once he'd calmed himself as well as he could.

Tomorrow (or today? He had no idea if it was already past midnight or not) was a Saturday, but from the looks of it he would still have to get up early, since Dr. Akagi had just compiled a new combat simulation for him, based on the freshly-evaluated data from his battle with the latest angel and thus requested his presence at NERV HQ so she could spent almost all day testing and refining it.

Shinji sighed.

At least, Misato had promised him some sort of compensation in the shape of a so-called 'surprise trip' on the day after. He was even allowed to bring Touji and Kensuke, who, according to Misato, would 'absolutely love this!', which Shinji didn't particularly doubt given that Misato herself would be present for them to marvel at. Still, Shinji couldn't help being the slightest bit disappointed that Ayanami would be unable to come along with them – apparently, she was required to stay behind in Tokyo-3 in case an angel attacked while they were away – Given that it would be a week after the last battle, the next enemy could technically show up at any given moment, and none of them could say when.

Shinji sighed.

Yes, the distance between him and the First Child had surely shrunk after the last battle, but since then, he hadn't had much in the way of a real conversation with her, like nothing had changed at all...

Or well, _almost_ nothing.

He kept noticing the minute, but telling fact that she would now usually depart with the words 'See you later' as opposed to her earlier 'farewell', most recently when she'd been ordered to stay behind at headquarters while he was being informed that he would be sent to deal with Jet Alone.

And that, at the very least, left room ...for a little bit of hope...

**Act I: [THE END]**


	18. Act II preview

In the first act, our unlikely protagonist found himself unexpectedly confronted with an offer he couldn't refuse and the heavy burden of a strenous, horrifying task that seemed night-impossible, especially for someone as ostensibly unsuited for heroism and warfare as himself. Even still, he presevered and managed to not only survive, but even build himself a little habor of his own - As time progressed, he came to realize that while the people in his new surroundings surely made huge, at times unquestionaly unreasonable demands of him, they also offered him the opportunity to find something he didn't have in his quiet, but aimless previous life, such as a way to contribute to society, a home, new friends, a person to yearn for and admire, even a semblance of family and a goal to work towards- In the light of all these new experiences, Shinji Ikari finally accepts what is shaping up to be his destiny-

- but just like when he first made the decision to climb into EVA 01, signing up for the job was just a sneak preview of the grueling trials and tribulations he will have to master on his way. Will he actually be able to presevere through the neverending, ever more creative attacks of the angels and defend his newfound significant others, even when ominous conspiracies show themselves to be stirring in the dark, along with something even more fundamentally terrifying that is about to raise the stakes even higher than Shinji ever thought possible? And how will the quiet world he has build for himself shift and mutate when it is shaken up by various new allies and enemies alike, all of whom comfront him with their strong personalities, unique perspective and the new experiences they have to offer?

This, and much more awaits you in **Act II: Rising Action: [You do (not) connect]**, a story about many unique individuals, and how they come together to master the impossible.

Yes, the title 'You can (not) advance' is being saved for later... In any case, the second act will be substantially longer than the first one and contain significantly more original content, while you might recognize some of it as expanded/beefed up versions of some of your favorite episodes (occassionally not in the order you'd expect them in) and EVA-related video games (particularly the introductory episodes of everyone's favorite redhead) others will be only loosely based on a few canonical details that provided the inspiration and otherwise be creations of my own sick brain. The current plan (which, admittedly, has shifted and expanded in the past but is, at least right now, not expected to undergo any more drastic changes) envisions the second arc (which is, in fact, still ongoing in the original version) to consist of multiple sub-storyarcs, for which you now get a little preview:

0) 00: *Prologue – _(featuring an Illustrious newcomer to the pilot roster!)_

1) 01-08: [SECOND CHILD HATES YOU] – _(At least, she really, really doesn't like you)_

2) 09 -18: [The Second Impression] – _(Because the first ones can be deceiving)_

3.) 19-25: [Collapse of the Wave Function] – _(Finally! Explanations!)_

4.) 26-?: [Ikari's Dogma] – (_SEELE's scenario is being overwritten by us. Everything in existence is merely an instrument to archieve this purpose.)_

4a) Theory: [Enemies of the World] (26-36)_ – (Of which there are three. The father, the son and the holy spirit)_

4b) Practice: [ The IdolatrousExpressionismPunk] (37-?) – _(VIGILATE ET ORATE – ITAQUE NESCITIS DIEM NEQUE HORAM)_

5.) ?-?: [The Denial of the Self]* _– (As if everything else he gets to put up with wasn't bad enough, poor Shinji now suffers from an acute case of artist's block. Other stuff also happens. __**Lots**__ of other stuff. "Baka! Why do you even bother with that oversized Violin in the first place?")_

_6.) _?-?: [Turning Back the Pendulum]** – _(Just where did it all go wrong?)_

7.) ?-?: [Femina Faber] – _(There was no way that she would allow a man who had given life before to come inside her dwellings... "Say, Shinji-kun, wouldn't you like to have a step-mother?")_

8.) ?-?: [The Weight of their Names] – _(Lethe, Lethe... Why did the ancient Greeks only leave us the word, and not the recipe?)_

9.) ?-?: [Struggling Onwards] – _(They just keep coming!)_

10) ?-?: [Girlfriend of Steel] – _(Aww, how cute~ Shin-chan finally got himself a girlfriend!)_

10a) [Spring] (?-?) – _(Ohmygosh you're so cute! Please be my boyfriend?)_

10b) [Summer] (?-?) – _(__**Of course**__ this has to happen now. Now you have ambitions of being happy.)_

10c) [Fall] (?-?) – _(Because what goes up must come down eventually...)_

10d) [Winter] (?-?) – _(She broke my __**heart**__. You merely broke my life.)_

_11) ?-?: [To The Pain]*** – (Yes, I know what you think of me. You never shut up.)_

12) ?-?: [The AHAB Desperados] – _(You have amazing instincts, Ikari Shinji-kun. But could you actually fire that gun?)_

13) ?-?: [The Fort In The Clouds] – _(The Angel of the God Rock)_

14) ?-?: [Reverse Rebirth] –_(The great defeat Shinji had long expected to come.)_

15) ?-?: [Peaceful Days] – _(Because in the end, my feelings were real)_

16) ?-?: [Heritage Arc] – _(Swear to me, father. Swear on something that __**matters**__.)_

17) ?-?: [Finale] - _(Nomen est Omen)_

* possibly sub-arcs; It'll be _really _long, probably the longest of this list. Although I currently think of it in terms of multiple intertwined plot threads that run parallel instead of subsequent events. Just a bunch of situations I always thought would be interesting to try out. I hate how that list is not an accurate representation of actual text volume at all.

** Might, or might not get integrated into "Denial of the self" as a subplot/spread out plt thread. It will make sense when we get there. Might also be placed later, or even become an Interlude between this Arc and the next.

*** Might end up taking place after "Denial of the self"-Arc, or become a subset of it – it depends how it fits with certain events and lines/points/relationship trajectories. I might even cancel it completely.

Some titles may change if I think of better ones. This list/preview will be actualized for the benefit of later-coming readers until Act II is finished.

...Also, this is a good a spot as any to explain the chapter numeration which is going to reset in each full arc, and also be a little different than it is in the German version, in that what are chapters 01 and 02 will be merged into a single one and labelled as 00, mostly because they're pretty short, I don't want the chapter quote to be that significant a fraction of the page lenght XD I hope this will alleviate the wait at least somewhat, I'll try to work as fast a thing think called RL lets me...


	19. 00: Mari of Bethany

**Act II: Rising Action: [You do (not) connect]**

**Chapter 0o: [Mari of Bethany]**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Es ist deine Reinheit<em>**

_Die du mit dir rumträgst_

_Es ist deine Würde_

_Die du in dir auslebst_

**_Es ist deine Wahrheit_**

_Die du mit dir rumträgst_

_Es ist Weiblichkeit_

_Die vor dir herschwebt  
><em>

**_[...]_**_  
><em>

**_Es ist deine Anmut_**

_Die aus dir herausbricht_

_Es ist Energie_

_Die jedem ins Herz sticht  
><em>

**_Die ganzen Menschen hier_**

_Alle tanzen nur für dich_

_Denn du bist wirklich_

_Göttlich_

_Heftig_

_Mächtig_

_Weiblich  
><em>

__-Megaherz, "Göttlich"__

__[:]__

__It is your purity__

__that you carry around with you__

__It is your dignity__

__that you act you within yourself__

__It is your truth__

__that you carry around with you__

__It is femininity__

__that floats onward before you__

_[…]_

__It is your grace__

__that breaks out of you__

__It is energy__

__that pierces our hearts__

__All the people here__

__they're all dancing just for you__

__because you are truly__

__Divine.__

__Intense.__

__Powerful.__

__Feminine.__

__-Megagerz, 'Divine'__

* * *

><p>"Kaji-san! At last, I finally got through to you in person! I'm sick of that stupid answering machine!"<p>

"Well, you know..." a man of about thirty years began to speak, holding his stubble-covered chin to the surface of his phone while his steps reverberated on the metal grate that made up the high runway he walked on.

It was about as wide as the average man was tall and framed by a handrail on each side. Further onward, there was a crossroads of such, four of such catwalks joined by a round platform as their juncture, which was held up by a black, cylindrical pillar; Otherwise, most of the room was dark, filled with machinery, tubes and pipelines many of which seemed to be oriented or leading towards a large tank with the dimensions of a skyscraper, as far as the dim, red lights allowed it to be seen.

While there were various maintenance gauges and even a few consoles accessible adjacent to the catwalk, none of them seemed to be active beyond a simple standby mode, which might have given rise to questions about just what exactly the man was doing there, besides conducting a phone call: "...I'd like to spend all my time sitting around chatting with you, but I'm afraid there's this little thing called 'work' I have to take care of..." he explained, jovially. "It's called_ business_ trip for a reason. But don't worry, I'll be back in Germany by tomorrow. Wouldn't want to miss our ship. I've just got a few... errands to run first. You'll get to see me soon enough."

"I can't wait! Without you, I'm really getting bored to death over here!" a girl's voice emanated from the receiver. "Where exactly are you, anyway?"

"Bethany Base." the man answered, a tall, exceptional specimen with his long, brown hair tied into a ponytail, an anthracite-gray uniform that further supplemented the coolness value of his hairstyle and, to crown it all, a considerably attractive, masculine face adorned with a sward of stubble. "I'm pretty much at the North Pole."

"I bet that sucks. You must be pretty bored yourself, between all the annoying office work and being stuck up there... I don't suppose the North Pole has much to offer in terms of recreational opportunities..."

"Sorry to disappoint you." the man answered. "But boredom is just about the least of my problems up here. If work doesn't keep me on my toes, then good old Mari certainly will make sure of that..."

"_Mari?!_" the girl on the other end of the connection shrieked, having lost a good portion of her earlier haughty intonation. "Who the hell is _that? _Don't tell me she's some Ex-girlfriend of yours!"

"No, no, nothing of the sort." the man, whom his young conversational partner identified as 'Kaji' replied with a soft chuckle. "Just an old friend. Well, not literally old, considering she's not much older than you are. Quite the little free spirit, though, so I guess birds of a feather flock together... I'm sure you'd get along with her, too."

"Well, I'm not convinced!"

"Anyway, I've gotta say 'bye' now. Things are about to get very busy over here."

"And don't you _dare_ make a move on this other girl!"

Once the call was ended and the white screen with the words 'Sound Only' on it had been displayed by one slightly lewd wallpaper featuring a well-endowed, long haired woman on a beach, he folded his phone back together and stuffed it back into the pocket of his uniform. Now more serious than carefree, he gazed back into the darkness he had left behind him, and of what he'd left behind back there.

He didn't exactly like having to do this, but neither could he think of any alternative that would be within his power to carry out.

From that same pocket he left the phone in, he pulled a small electronic device, briefly checked the series of numbers on its lone display which was steadily counting down, and then put it right back.

Normally, he ought to be mostly concerned about the remainder of the preparations he would have to make for what was about to take place, now that he had a strict time schedule to keep to – but the word 'ex-girlfriend', as casually as the girl had mentioned it, was very effective at leading his thoughts to another inevitability that awaited him only slightly further ahead on the path he had decided on...

He might be so efficient at lying and cheating that he could earn a livelihood with those skills, but a liar skilled enough to convince him that the prospect of crossing paths with that woman after so many years hadn't struck him with heartache was something god had yet to thrown down from the heavens.

* * *

><p>The darkness was crossed by both a few bubbles and a sloshing noise as the warm liquid ousted the air from the entry plug.<p>

She knew that the sight of substance enveloping her was probably just about to be replaced by the clear view of the interface, its patters and frames designed to fool her into thinking that the liquid wasn't there – but Mari Illustrious Makinami had never trusted her eyes that much to begin with, in part because ever since her birth, she could have given a mole lessons in being near-sighted.

Just because the vibrant color of the LCL was no longer reaching her retinas, there was no reason to suppose that it had disappeared, for the Fourth Child could still sense it in all of its majesty as she took in the medium around her, purposefully sucking it in as if she wanted to swathe every square centimeter of her body's internal surface in the liquid's inimitable taste and smell so it might continue to dance on her cells, the cursed red water that smelled of _red_, smelled of _**life**_.

Starting on the inside of her limbs, she began to feel the emergent ticklings of the most intense, most electrifying sensation she had ever perceived, stronger than the deepest bungee jump before the process was even past the start-up phase

The tingling covered every speck of her skin, filled her volume completely, and from the moment she had first sensed the tug of the connection, Mari opened herself all too gladly, opening the gates of her soul to more and more of that torrent of weightlessness, welcoming it with wide open arms as she allowed it to rush inside of her.

She gazed into EVA 05, and EVA 05 gazed into her.

Not that there was much, no concrete sense of 'self', just a simple spark of organic life, composed mostly of basic instincts and drives, mingled with a distant refraction of something surprisingly familiar, but that would do.

There was nothing amongst those things that Mari didn't also have.

They would become fast friends, EVA 05 and her.

'Come, let us go', she told the enormous colossus, with every pulse of her soul, those ecstatic, _overflowing waves _at the borders of her region that wildly ebbed and flowed into the expanse of the connection in her playfully-probing attempts at feeling it out. 'Come, and let us live, at least a little. Aren't we both life, you and I?' Along the path of that thoughts, her oscillations finally settled on a gentle, yet unearthly wavelength that followed other rules than the languages of humans, like the song of a fearless tamer who could calm the most ferocious beasts, like the medium who made her very existence a path between here, now and the shadows of the netherworld, or like a pagan priestess channeling the gods, intoxicated with incense and thoroughly, _willfull_y lost in the mad dance of the korybantes.

She was here, she was now and she was breathing in the thrilling, rapturous red.

Life wants to be alive, and all she wanted to do right now was _be_.

She didn't think of it in terms of her little ritual being crowned with success, she just felt the growing resonance that reverberated closely behind those sensations and how they, in turn, reflected her initial invitation; Heart and Heart being roused from whatever less dynamic state they had slumbered in and progressively harmonizing thenmselved into a single, booming concord as Mari herself sat in the darkness and enjoyed the indescribably exhilarating, and at the same time, awesomely extreme, almost _painful_ process, barely registering the technicians' voices as they passed her by.

"Start Entry Sequence."

"Initializing LCL ionization."

"Plug depth stable at default value."

"Boot-up voltage has cleared the threshold."

"Launch prerequisites achieved."

"Synchronization rate requirements are go."

"Pilot, please specify linguistic norms for cognitive functions."

It took Mari a bit to realize that she had just been addressed and was expected to answer.

Somewhat sheepish, Mari began to think of an answer – The question, however, did not have the effect of disrupting her concentration, the connection process steadily continued in the background of whatever her conscious mind was doing, for the Evangelion and her were already connected at a significantly deeper level, one of the innermost layers of herself that was much more constant than her fickle thoughts – What language? Her choice did end up reflecting those earliest, dearest memories that resided in that place, but also whatever all the spectators in the control rooms would be the least likely to understand – this moment was _hers_, a long-awaited one, and she wanted to give this experience its space without anyone's squabblings intruding:

"Uh, since it's the first time, I think I'll go with Japanese."

"Roger!" some operator affirmed.

Then, Mari listened as the machinery around her started to move, and hung on to her control yokes as her EVA was moved into its finalized launch position.

A sharp jolt went through both the Entry Plug and the Fourth Child inside of it – Despite all her earlier musings on _red_, most of what she could see from there was actually _green_: The green of her plugsuit, the green of her pilot seat, even the helmet she was wearing was green, to match the EVA itself; All these things might consist of rubber, varnish, plastic and metal, but what really gave them their shape and consistence was the hope of the people who'd participated in its assembly – It was almost as if their thoughts were manifesting in the color of hope that coated their handiwork.

The only physically visible red were the strings of letters and numbers that were speeding through the 'windows' of the interface at the time it finally appeared, akin to the booting sequence on a computer – but there was a very good reason for its presence, since the "provisional" Unit was, as the name suggested, not technically finished yet. But since the beginning of this project, the growth of the head and torso had been prioritized so that they would have a halfway operable EVA as soon as possible, even if they had to prepare cybernetic limbs for the event of an unexpectedly early launch – In that way, EVA 05 was more of a straightforward cyborg than many of its more 'conventional' brethren.

These mechanical parts, however, couldn't be moved nearly as intuitively as the EVA's biological parts that were already very human-like to begin with, therefore, the Entry-plug of a provisional Evangelion was filled with much more visible technology than a regular one: The control yokes had several switches built into them, the pilot wore a large, clunky helmet with an insect-like red visor closed in front of her eyes, and the wrist-parts of her plug suit were attached to three green tubes per arm.

The plug suit itself was green on the torso, but white on the limbs, inverting the Evangelion's own color scheme; The white parts and whatever padding they included was divided into white rectangles that might have evoked an old soviet spacesuit, while the green parts ended in a skirt-like seam shortly below her hips, leaving her pubic mount and the majority of her buttocks to be covered by the same white material as her legs, while her breasts were encased in a protective plating made-up of several hard plastic stripes – but only quite inadequately.

The plug suit might have been designed to adapt to it's wearer's body shape, but as Mari found out when she was shaken around by the contraptions meant to position the EVA, and thus, was made to undertake her first proper full-body movements since she boarded the plug, that wondrous adaptability did not extend up to cup size E.

She tried to squirm around inside the suit to nudge her breasts back into their designated spaces, but there simply wasn't enough such space for them to fit into, so that she ultimately capitulated with a sigh.

"I'm sorry. The remaining components didn't arrive in time." Kaji, who was apparently present in the command center as well, apologized over the intercom. Not that those missing components were all too high on Mari's current list of worries: "My chest is completely hemmed in!"

"Sorry about that, to. And about having to send you out in a provisional unit as well."

"I don't mind." Mari stated as she adjusted the small dials on her helmet until she had a sharp view of the outside world on the hexagonal panels of the interface. "I'm just glad that I finally get to pilot an EVA!" she confessed, greedily taking in every bit of the enormous stream of information that the EVA offered to her – She was bursting with excitement and loving every bit of it – She could already feel the Evangelion's metallic limbs almost as if they were her own; She hadn't thought that there could be a conscious state so far from the sensation of ordinary 'being'.

"Well, you little troublemaker didn't exactly make it easy for us to trust you with one. Good luck!"

That was basically her launch order – Time to go, time to go!

Mari couldn't hardly contain the feeling, yet alone believe it. The rush of adrenaline that shot through her blood was beyond her wildest dreams. She looked past her white-clad thighs to where her controls were, letting her nigh-manic fingers make the final adjustments.

"It's moving!_ It's moving! _This feels so _wicked_ I could go crazy right now!" She now leant forward to finally grasp the controls firmly, bearing an ecstatic grin.

She pulled on the levers to cause the antennas meant for the power supply to connect with the corresponding rails on the ceiling of the tunnel – Mari supposed that the mechanism probably worked roughly like a bumper car – and finally concluded that everything was in place. _Oh boy, oh boy! _She felt like every single nerve cord in her body was just about to catch fire – The experience was incomparable even to any sort of parachute jump, it was practically a spiritual event. Despite the constricting suit and tunnel walls, she felt unspeakably free, free beyond all bounds, free to fully live out what had always been inside of her.

"_Ready!" _she informed the people back at the command center, after it kind of occurred to her that they still existed, and released the last remaining lock bolts. "Provisional Unit 05, _activate!_"

The luminescent writing on the pilot's helmet lit up in the same instant.

Now, he could get started with the actual task at hand – which was more than overdue, ince her enemy was also very much ready – Raziel, the angel of the deep.

With a laser beam fired from his eyes, he effortlessly blasted one of the tunnel network's numerous shutters out of his way, and proceed to float across the fire lines of several tanks, all completely unhampered without showing the slightest semblance of damage.

How _ridiculous_ they were, those defense lines of the Lillim – the more humiliating it felt to Raziel that being like these could have taken the promised land from him and his kind, or that they had held Raziel himself for so, so long inside their earthly prison – He didn't know just to what he owed this opportunity, nor was it in his nature to even formulate such a question, but this didn't detract from his certainty: He would make good use of this chance to take vengeance on those accursed beings who despite the tiny, fragile nature of their measly bodies somehow managed to strip the flesh from his bones by wiping them from his sight to reclaim this world for himself and his remaining brothers and sisters.

The pain, a side effect of their probing, still reverberated throughout his being; A Lillim would be long dead in a state like his, but a being blessed with the fruit of life could never die, unless the very vessel of its soul were to be destroyed, and that was still perfectly intact inside his bare skull.

Therefore, his suffering still continued.

And, his life still continued. He would make good use of his father's gift, and finally, for the first time since his life first awakened deep, deep down inside the eternal ice of wherever the explosion that accompanied his birth had blown him to, he would taste the air of the planet whose riches should have been his birthright, ever since that birth, the time span he didn't know they would call 'fifteen years', on the occasion of that fateful, failed attempt to convert this world for the likes of them.

Raziel intended to complete what his father had begun and, after all this time he had spent inside the Lillim's alien structures, finally, _finally_ create a place he could call his own.

Driven by pure survival instinct, Raziel melted his way through one door after another, his mind filled with only one thought:

…...FREE...DOM...FREEEEEEEDOM... FREEEEEEEEEE...

* * *

><p>As far as the people in the command center were concerned, Raziel already <em>had<em> a place where he belonged: His now breached containment tank.

Consequently, it was easy to guess just how happy they were about his unstoppable advance through the tunnel systems: Not at all.

"Defend the Limbo Area at all costs!" an elderly man ordered, hanging on to his console in disbelief, stunned at what the screens in front of him seemed to be wanting to tell him. "We cannot allow it to escape from Archeron!" The man paused to order his thoughts;

This was way beyond all worse case scenarios.

"How could a containment system as secure as Cocytus be neutralized? That fool Mitsurugi claimed it could easily withstand a nuclear blast!"

Right on cue, a stream of mangled English intruded from the back of the platform: "It was within the realm of possibility."

Whether the old man and his subordinates turned towards him because they didn't quite get what he was saying, or _exactly_ because they _had_ understood him will always remain a mystery.

In any case, Kaji, who had shown up with his gray uniform with a sly, confident smirk on his face, continued his massacre on the English language:

"On its own, humanity isn't capable of holding the Angels in check. The analysis following the permafrost-excavation of the Third Angel was so extensive, all there was left was the bones. And _that_was the conclusion."

The NERV-personel's expressions, be they shocked or confused, quite soon took a turn in the direction of indignant surprise when Kaji, without any further comments, spontaneously pulled out a flight helmet and waved goodbye with an audacious grin.

"That said, good luck!"

And then, he toddled off, leaving the Bethany Base staff standing there like a bunch of pizzas that had been ordered, but never picked up.

As soon as the guy with the special mission from headquarters made his escape, it didn't take them any exceptional mathematical arts to figure that they were pretty much done for.

* * *

><p>In the meantime, EVA 05 was likewise steadily proceeding through the base's tunnel system – on a direct collision course with the angel.<p>

The power antennas slid past the corresponding power rails on the tunnel ceiling; As if unconsciously, the Evangelion followed every tiniest motion of its pilot in a very natural manner, like the expectant rhythmic forward motion of her arms. The small wheels on each of the EVA's legs which, unlike with regular units, numbered four, were coated with a dark, forest-green varnish, and substantially more insectoid in shape, the robotic grappler, the long, gigantic medieval-style that resembled the weapons that the knights of old used to use in their jousting matches, but in reality consisted of an experimental material meant to constitute a first-generation copy of the legendary Lance of Longinus, the torso that had remained white because it's paint job hadn't been finished in time except for the many glowing security stripes on it, even the sharp-edged contours of the head which also evoked a knight's helmet, it all danced to the tune of its crusading palladina, a literal tune, one might add, for Mari felt so elated that she spontaneously erupted into song: "Shiawase waaaa aruite ko-nai, daaaaakala aruite yukunnnn da neeee, Ichi ni chi ippo, miiiika de sanpo, sanpo susun-nipo sakaruuuu. Jiiiiiiusei wa one-two-punchiii..."

In time with her song, Mari overjoyedly pulled at her control yokes, causing the lance and the grappler to move in tandem without the slightest delay.

The Fourth Child's synchronization rate had shot up with remarkable ease, she led the green titan forward like a fish takes to water – The experience of moving a foreign body and at the same time, feeling it with her own was simply unbelievable.

Effortlessly, she sped through the corridors and shafts, just fooling around in zealous expectation, driving on the wall for a bit to test out her possibilities as the automatic shutters kept closing behind her – until she finally locked onto a red glow at the end of the tunnel, and thrust her full body forward from her previously fairly upright sitting position to engage the target with all she had.

"There it is!" Mari gushed euphorically. "Deploying AT-field!"

And indeed, Raziel came, consisting of little else than a long spine with ribs and a bare skull inside of which the luminescence of the core shone at full energy output. The being displayed a kind of serpentine motion throughout its full length, which nonetheless didn't contribute to it's main form of propulsion – at the middle of its body, it's ribs were not stark naked, but still contained within a horseshoe-like shell whose shrimp-like segments alternatingly constituted yellow-black stripes, and on it's underside, several wiggling, tiny insect-like legs that it used to eagerly crawl forward – the mere idea that these thin, wispy things could possibly carry the full weight of the bone giant was one giant insult about whom there would probably continue be a lot of snickering behind the laws of physics' back.

With a distantly avian shriek, Raziel unscrupulously charged the blasphemous creation of the Lilim that was blocking its path – and so, ran directly into EVA 05's very readily positioned, piercing lance.

Mari could barely wait to try it out.

With a bestial war cry that would have been worthy of a Klingon, Mari struck out backwards and then jousted her weapon forward making use of the kinetic motion of her EVA's forward sprint and a flowing, full-body movement in which she first lowered the EVA's torso and then stretched it forward along with the actual attack, thrusting her weapon directly towards the angel's body – But _it_ turned out to be very flexible and quickly slithered out of harm's way, using that same motion to wrap around the EVA as they both scratched against the wall, sending sparks flying.

"K-KYAAAH!" Mari shouted, unexpectedly overtaken and unused to the inertia of the EVA's greater mass, freeing herself from the angel's stranglehold with a well-placed kick. "It's hard to move in here!" Slightly pulling her legs together, Mari tried to somehow maneuver the Unit that had been uncontrollably flung away – She activated the brakes, but Unit Five still didn't come to a halt until it hit the next closed shutter – But Mari was not quite that easily to get rid of – Her parents had picked just the right thing when they settled on her idiosyncratic middle name: _Illustrious._

Without wasting a single second licking her wounds, she charged after the angel in a full-body motion, again leaning forward both her own ample shell and the EVA's body with all of its troublesome bulk.

"Well, then I'm just going to need some _brute force!_"

By now, Raziel was just about done melting a hole through the next wall, and triumphantly marched into the larger hall beyond.

Here, he switched his wriggling crawl for levitation and appropriately, a large, golden halo of pure energy spread out above his body, and a dark mirror image of it's outline promptly broke from the ceiling.

All of Bethany Base shook, when the halo, and with it, its dark pendant above reached their full sizes – Everything glowed with golden light, and where its dark counterpart had been, an entire column of metal and concrete fell through its outline, and the halo rose to catch its handiwork and push it upwards; Together with the column of concrete, the angel ascended towards salvation.

* * *

><p>"Outer wall integrity compromised!" a blonde technician reported with palpable anxiety. "The final seal is about to be breached!"<p>

"Target has broken through Limbo Area! Now moving into Archeron!"

The older male who apparently commanded this outpost was progressively losing his nerve: "Get Unit Five to do **SOMETHING!**"

* * *

><p>The angel, by contrast, had successfully reached his intermediary goal – Further and further, the cut-out concrete column rose from the outer hull of Bethany Base, hoisted up by the angel's herculean telekinetic strength, with which he gleefully broke it apart once they both finally, <em>finally<em> reached the surface at long last.

Inside a slim pillar of light, the angel continued its vertical ascent – below him lay the dungeon that held him captive for almost his entire life: A large disk crowning the violated husk of what had once been his primordial, egg-shaped cocoon, surrounded by a circle of long, cylindrical black pillars that were inscribed with the ever-shifting, dynamic glymphs of the ancient ones in the red of their shared lifeblood.

A storm was raging outside, shaking up the red waters of the arctic sea, which surrounded the small outpost on all sides. Undoubtedly, most Lillim would have described the view as hellish and hostile to life, but Raziel was thoroughly overwhelmed: He had never personally perceived any of these things, only felt their presence through his inherent awareness.

He never knew that the creator's sky was so endless and vast, or that the roaring of it's winds was so mighty and ferocious. He never knew the red of his father's sea, the deep crimson color that spelled death to the Lillim, but for him and his kind meant nothing less than _life_ itself in its purest form.

He didn't expect the promised land to be so opulent, so glorious, so _large..._

The messenger felt awe.

He was in awe before the world, before the creators, and before his father;

At the sight of this seemingly infinite, unbelievable vastness, Raziel once again felt the wish to possess it, no longer born of any desire for childish revenge, but out of deepest admiration; He wanted to wipe it clean of all these repulsive Lillim who had no appreciation for its splendor and hid themselves away from it inside of the feeble, constricted structure of their cancerous swarm clusters.

Oh, you poor creature.

Your plans for your grand intentions never accounted for Mari.

* * *

><p>"YOU STAY RIGHT HERE!" Mari bellowed, blasting off her EVA's power antennas and activating the rockets on its underside without wasting a single thought on the question for a way back.<p>

The angel might have escaped, but that didn't mean it had won: Like a comet, Unit Five raced towards the skies, following after the angel through it's own improvised escape route – Her EVA might not have been intended for use outside the tunnels, but it wasn't like Mari had some more compatible EVA hiding in the barn, and besides, there was no way she would pause for a pit stop just where things were beginning to be really, really _fun! _The emergency rockets only came with a very limited on-board fuel supply, but this problem could be quite easily solved in a convenient way that would kill two birds with one stone – With all of her strength, Mari rammed her lance straight through the angel's spine, into the black stone of a glyph-covered sealing pillar – Did she win?

For an instant, the lights inside the angel's skulls did indeed fade, and its entire body hung down limply like it had been knocked out – But Raziel remained tenacious, even when pinned to the mystic runes of the ancient hex, and soon awoke, expulsed a screeching shriek, and aimed a point-blank shot of it's laser at EVA 05's legs as they were holding on to his carapace, in a desperate attempt to interrupt the choke hold of the human creation.

The LCL to her right immediately _boiled, _the Fourth Child's entire right arm was glowing like burning coal in a storm of frantic bubbles. The material of the plug suit swiftly discolored, its surface started to peel off, and because of her high synch ratio, she was quite serious that the skin beneath must have been covered in large, ugly blisters at this point.

"Auuuuu, aaaaaiiieeee, ouuuuutch...! _This hurts! It hurts like hell_!"

But above her gritted teeth, the Fourth Child's lips formed an animalistic smirk: _"But it's so damn __**fun **__that I don't mind that all!_"

Canalizing her manic ecstasy into her physical impetus as she lunged forward, she used the remaining, pincer-like arm to reach straight into the angel's jaws, firmly grasped the core it had bared to power its last attack, and _squeezed_. The creature frantically struggled to close its gorge, but it was no use.

With one hand on core and her lance in its throat, Mari was inseparable from her enemy.

Besides her, however, the battery counter was steadily nearing a row of zeroes – She might have her target pinned down, but in this unfinished – albeit faily likeable – Evangelion that was continuously breaking apart on her, she had no way of killing it off.

"There's no more time!" she concluded, squeezing down under great strain.

There were still bits of color coming off her plugsuit's still glowing right arm and floating all around her in the LCL, her nerves in that limb were so overloaded with pain that they could only answer her continuous orders to get back to the controls with erratic twitching of her hand. The other hand, meanwhile, was curled so tightly around its respective control yoke it _hurt – _The green, mechanical pincers squeezed and squeezed, but somehow, the full extent of the pressure Mari was summoning up in her mind did not reach the angel's core. "Not enough power to force synchronization with the mechanical parts! The unit isn't holding out, either!"

The interface was beginning to flicker, too.

_Great!_ Was there any other adverse circumstance she might have forgotten to mention?

Oh yeah, the plug suit's traitorous plastic chest plates seemed absurdly determined to chafe her breasts raw.

And if all of this weren't enough, the angel continued its lasery assault in spite of the Fourth Child's choke hold, which, all things considered, had been pretty useless anyway. Between the very cornered angel and the steadfastly crumbling Evangelion, their fight had long since turned into a pure battle of wills that transcended their faltering physical bodies, and what the angel wanted could be felt very clearly in the unprecedented strength of its most recent attack: It cleanly severed all four of EVA 05's legs and made sure they would still explode up in the air to further bombard the unfortunate unit and its pilot.

But the British girl was not deterred for long: Where any others might have clung to the lance as the final lifeline keeping the EVA from tumbling into the abyss, Mari laughed death in the face by jettisoning the lance (which caused the green tubes to detach from the wrist of her still smoldering arm which she finally managed to move through little other than iron determination) and proceeding to grip the angel's core with _both_ of Unit Five's grappler-like hands.

The EVA groaned with the additional strain and shared the further tension with the plastic panels that had been sewing its toothless mouth shut so far, ultimately tearing asunder with extreme prejudice, after which they now ironically resembled teeth, almost as if it wanted to scream together with Mari.

With both hands, she gripped the left control yoke and using all the strength she had left, pushed it as far as it would physically go.

"Now hurry up and DIEEEEEEEEEE!"

The core shattered and burst in her hands, but just to make sure it was really dead and all of her _other_ mission parameters were fully accomplished, Mari reached for the only weapon the mutilated EVA had left at its disposal: The self-destruct mechanism.

In a single instant, EVA 05 transformed into a wave of light and fire – Mari, however, didn't.

She had ejected her entry plug at the last possible moment and had it click smoothly into a rocket-powered harness she had attached to the EVA's back for this explicit purpose – The tiny propulsion jet and the entry plug strapped to it became a small, shining dot radiating into the atmosphere and outran the massive, spherical explosion which shattered the pillars of Bethany Base with its indiscriminate force.

* * *

><p>A small aircraft soared beneath the clouded sky that was now beginning to clear up, as if to celebrate the ending of the battle with those first rays of sunlight that were only now breaking through.<p>

Kaji, whose eyes had since concealed his eyes behind his helmet's visor in order to fly his one-man plane, pensively observed the ocean's surface beneath.

According to the incoming messages, the angel had been destroyed, the EVA completely vaporized, and its pilot safely escaped.

"...she triggered EVA 05's self-destruct mechanism without a moment's hesitation..." Kaji concluded. "Still... I don't like having to leave this kind of thing in the hands of a teenaged girl..."

He sneaked a brief peek at the security-hard-top case that lay atop his own, orderly packed luggage that had been long prepared for today's 'accident'.

There goes package number one.

As for the second one, it was still waiting to be picked up back in Germany.

He just hoped that Commander Ikari had been serious about this 'generous escort' he had promised him for that particular hazardous cargo...

* * *

><p>Although the cloud layer was slowly but steadily opening up, the waves stirred up by the final shock wave had yet to calm down completely. Compared to the drifting entry plug, the bloodied seas still resembled a range of large hills.<p>

But once its floating patterns were deemed safe enough, the hatch opened accompanied by a puff of steam, and out sprang a very exhausted Makinami Mari, hanging on to the entry plug's outer metal hull for support while she lifted her still aching body out of the hatch. The silhouette that now contrasted against the red of the arctic ocean was that of a tall, lanky girl who nonetheless possessed plenty in the terms of opulent female attributes such as wide hips, large breasts and a generous distribution of material around her thighs and buttocks, even though all of it was still throbbing from the heavy side effects of her first proper Evangelion battle.

The fire-garlands of pain were still dancing through her nerves like the memory of a loyal friend whom she had only known shortly, but was very unlikely to ever forget.

"Oh my, synchronization with an EVA is even more intense than they ever told me..." she mumbled to herself while she leaned against the hull of the plug, opened her visor and finally removed her helmet altogether.

Ah, there was nothing more relaxing than good old fresh air!

Despite the stench of the bloody sea, Mari could still make out the typical freshness of air purified by a storm.

That, too, was a strong caontender for the 'scent of life'.

Her now liberated pigtails playfully danced in the breeze; Mari had a fairly attractive face framed by wild brown hair, with vibrant blue-green eyes and a thin European nose in its center. Said hair was further adorned by a somewhat dreamy-looking alice band in the color of midday sky which simultaneously served as her interface headset as evidenced by the white nerve clips on its sides.

The most noticeable accessories were probably her bright red plastic glasses, especially since the right lens seemed to have cracked at some point of the battle.

Despite the trickle of blood that was running down her face on her right side, or the way she was letting the arm with the discolored plug suit rubber around it hang down because the injuries and subsequent overexertion had rendered it impossible to move reliably, there was an unearthly smile on her lips when she finally stood at her full height.

"But never mind, it's good to be alive... still, I don't like having to involve adults in my plans..."

With her gaze directed as the two cross-like beams in the distance and the rainbow that had appeared around them, and a calm, serene expression on her face, she chose to dedicate a moment to a fallen companion:

"Farewell, EVA Unit Five... Thank you for fulfilling your role so bravely."

* * *

><p>(1) Title is a funny little allusion to the biblical character "Mary of Bethany", who some interpretations equate with Mary Magdalene. Basically the hair towel chick, if any of you remember her.<p>

(2) Just to avoid confusion: The person Kaji was phoning in the beginning was intended to be Asuka. As for his phone's wallpaper, it's supposed to be Misato, in a pose not unlike that photo from episode , although not necessarily the same one. He could never bring himself to press the delete button once and for all... or something like that.

(3) I've taken the name 'Raziel' from the proposal, where the first angel (or rather, 'apostolo') to attack wasn't good 'ol Sachiel, but rather a 'metallic giant' by the name of Raziel. Given that the name was intended for some spiritual predecessor of Sachi, it seemed appropriate for the one who got squeezed in before him in the numeration.

(4) If the horrible English thing was unintentional, (which I admit it probably was) I wonder why everyone else's English was significantly more tolerable. XD

(5) Translation of Mari's song: "Happiness won't walk to me just because I look for it/ so I'll have to walk to where it is/ One step in one day/ three steps in three days/ three steps forwards and just two steps back/ sometimes life just punches you out..."

(6) In case this wasn't completely obvious, I absolutely LOVE Mari *.*

(7) The next chapter will be longer again and comes with the fairly informative title of 01: [SECOND CHILD HATES YOU] I hate to make you wait any more, but I fear I'll have to update the German version next. I'll probably pop out the whole remainder of the "Practice" Arc at once to make up for how long it's been... * sigh * and of course, the semester has started and it's time I got a move on if I plan on passing any exams this year... I'll try my best, though, so thanks for all of your patience until now.


	20. 01: SECOND CHILD HATES YOU

**01: [SECOND CHILD HATES YOU]**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Got a figure like a pinup<em>**

_Got a figure like a doll_

_Don't care if you think I'm dumb_

_I don't care at all_

_candy Pie, sweety pie_

_Wanna be adored_

_I'm the girl you die for  
><em>

**_I chew you up and_**

_I spit you out_

_'Cause that's what young love_

_Is all about_

_So pull me closer_

_And kiss me hard!_

_I'm gonna pop your bubblegum heart  
><em>

**_I'm miss suggar pink_**

_Leca leca lips_

_Hit me with your sweet love_

_Steal me with a kiss_

_I'm miss suggar pink_

_Leca leca lips_

_I'm gonna be your bubblegum bitch_

_I'm gonna be your bubblegum bitch  
><em>

**_Quetex, latex_**

_I'm your wonder-maid_

_Life gave me some lemons_

_So I made some lemonade_

_Soda Pop, Soda Pop_

_Baby here I come_

_Straight to number one  
><em>

**_Oh dear diary_**

_I met a boy_

_He made my doll heart_

_Light up with joy!_

_Oh dear diary_

_We fell apart_

_Welcome to the life of Electra Heart!  
><em>

_[...]  
><em>

**_I think I want_**

_Your American tan_

_I think I'm gonna_

_Be my biggest fan  
><em>

__-Marina and the Diamonds, 'Bubblegum Bitch'__

* * *

><p>"Yes. I've already made arrangements with the committee about this. The cargo has already left Sasebo and is currently on its way across the pacific..." folding his phone after finishing his call, Ikari had barely had the time to redirect his attention to the next task at hand when he heard the hiss of his office door.<p>

"...come in." he demanded, making sure his phone was turned off and stored away before beginning this conversation – In the door frame stood Akagi, mercifully in her usual costume consisting of a miniskirt, stockings and her white lab coat and not any more dolled up than it was typical for her. She was carrying a clipboard with various papers, which she proceeded to place on her superior's desk. One might inquire why she would still bother to keep up her facade of professionalism in front of someone who had seen her true self very clearly – perhaps so she could tolerate her own sight in the mirror. But that potential wondering someone certainly wasn't Ikari – His thoughts were someone else entirely and his disengagement of all potentially bugged or otherwise fallible electronic devices wasn't a gesture of discretion as much as one of situationally appropriate paranoia, part of which was to make sure they actually discussed whatever their cover was supposed to be.

"Here are the progression graphs for the synch tests of the last few weeks."

The front page of the report her long, deep red fingernails were arranging in front of him showed two distinct curves, one that had remained very, very flatly at one particular point on the border between the lower and middle thirds of the scale, and another that was on a very obvious, very steep course upward, the occasional spontaneous downward fluctuation notwithstanding.

The commander's scrutinizing eyes briefly browsed over the resume, but ultimately responded with a quiet "Good.", before moving on to the most urgent reason for the secrecy: "And what about... our _other_ problem?"

"There have been no further victims. Which I'm personally not ungrateful for, given that panic breaking out in the city or having this connected to the names of our organizations would needlessly complicate things at this point. But on the other hand, that means that we no longer have any indicators to keep track of what that thing might be doing, and if its behavior patterns are indeed changing... we don't have much of a capacity to predict it, either. For all we know it might have left Tokyo-3 already..."

"I don't think so." Ikari objected. "If killing humans had been its only objective until now, it wouldn't have had any reason to stay here in the first place. But it did stay. Almost as if wanted to stay close to some resource that would not be present elsewhere."

"You mean it's sticking close to _us?_"

"Or to something in our vaults." Ikari concluded, somewhat exasperating the fake blonde by showing little outward signs of concern.

"Then why doesn't it just come and get whatever that it wants? And, on that subject, why has it only killed so few people so far? When it escaped, it was butchering everyone it came across, but the later killings have been mostly isolated incidents with no obvious blood trail between them... When you look at it that way, it becomes hard to believe that killing humans was ever among its primary objectives..."

"...but rather, a means to an end." the commander completed, implying a conclusion that the leader of the technical division was reluctant to articulate: "Which would mean that it has stopped to kill because... it no longer needs to... Given where it came from, this should be completely impossible, but that would mean that this thing really has something like a _plan_, complete with multiple stages."

"Which makes stopping it an even higher priority." Ikari stated dryly. "What about that tracking method you have proposed?"

"Here are the blueprints." Another pile of papers found their way onto the commander's desk. "The results from Golghatha have proven very useful, although we are probably still miles away from having the dummy plug at our disposal. Additionally, this new purpose will require its own particular modifications and adjustments, which might take a little while. The finished device could be called the prototype of the world's first physical implementation of an AT-field resonance detector."

"...Well done. From this moment, this entire affair, including the design and assembly process of the detector, will be codenamed 'Project Kronos'. The escaped subject will be reclassified from 'Rei 49' to 'Leatha'."

"Understood."

"And how are the blueprints for the upgrade of EVA 00 to production model status coming along?"

"They're finished, and the same goes for the minimal repairs on the most essential systems. All that's left to do is to ask the pilot what color she'd prefer for the paint job on the outer hull. If worst comes to worst, it can probably be launched and operated in case of an emergency, but it will probably take weeks before it's back to full efficiency."

* * *

><p>That Sunday morning, it was the warm rays of the morning sun that tickled Shinji out of his sleep.<p>

Not quite settled into the new day, he tentatively opened his eyes, which filled with distant bewilderment right away.

Judging by the trend of the last few days, he would have expected a significantly ruder awakening preceded by intense dreams, but all he could recall from today's vision was a simple shoreline – The sea had showed itself in a clear, translucent blue, which, at least for Shinji, was a pretty strange sight, but that was had been the most remarkable thing about it.

It didn't fit at all with the steadily intensifying visions that had plagued him for the last few days... but that was only natural for dreams, right? To not follow any particular sense or order. If anything, that should confirm that they were just that, dreams.

They hadn't felt like normal illusions, but then again, the life that was generating them wasn't a normal one, either, and the... _pretty girls_ his fantasies had assembled (he tried not to think about the _boy_) were fairly average products for a 14 year old's head.

Trying hard to be relieved, he forcibly diverted his thoughts from the night before to the day that lay ahead, which was admittedly enough to place the beginnings of a genuine smile on Shinji's lips.

Today, he had this supposed surprise road trip with Misato, Touji and Kensuke waiting for him. Shinji wondered what Misato might have prepared for them – with her, you could never really know what she might think up.

In any case, Shinji found himself surprised that he was still capable of such jaunty anticipation.

Having a person that could in some ways be classified as a relative prepare some spontaneous excursion with his friends, just going out of town to have a good time... all of these things were new to him.

It had been a long time coming, but by now, Shinji didn't just feel at home here, he felt happy.

The Third Child climbed out of bed and started dressing.

Curiously, he had to admit that he was actually anticipating the 'surprise'.

As the young EVA pilot walked into the kitchen and began with the preparing breakfast, any grumblings about how he'd ended up doing all the housework were long forgotten – instead, he had gladly accepted and even begun to appreciate that he had his own places and tasks in this household.

He had no idea of that the events of this day were just about to throw his ordered little world into great disarray...

* * *

><p>As far as their little tour's entertainment value was concerned, Misato had certainly kept her promises: Touji and Kensuke were having the time of their lives. Especially Kensuke.<p>

Soon after their departure, he already wore a grin wide enough to put every respectable Cheshire cat to shame, the main reason being the vehicle that was intended to transfer them to their still mysterious destination: "Wow! I never thought I would ever get to ride a real MIL-55D cargo helicopter!" he exclaimed, alternating between filming the inside of their flying machine and the sea beneath with his trusty electronic friend, only putting down the camera to jokingly address the incumbent of the middle seat with a wide smile: "It's really great to have influential friends like you!"

Shinji, who had been thinking about something unrelated up to this point, merely answered with a slightly confused, "Hm?"

Only later would he explicitly notice that this was when Kensuke had begun to call him by his first name – for now, his attention was occupied by Misato, who was sitting besides the plane's pilot, but now turned around to let the kids in on the secret: "I thought that you might be bored of sitting around at home all the time, so I decided to bring you along for our rendezvous maneuver."

While Kensuke, who had shown up in green cargo pants with many pockets, a yellowish vest and a red tank top instead of his uniform, was busy filming again, Touji almost jumped out of his seat at the words, while Shinji did not quite know what to make of the starts in his eyes: "Did my ears just hear the word 'rendezvous'? Speaking of which, I've bought this cap especially for this occasion!" he declared, enthusiastically adjusting the position of the white baseball cap on his head.

Shinji, who was sitting between his two friends, couldn't summon up any such huge passion to be honest, and simply asked where they might be headed. It hadn't even occurred to him that this might be the kind of 'special occasion' where it might have been more appropriate to wear something other than his everyday school uniform, but since his previous life (or at the very least, the last three years of it) was completely devoid of any 'special occasions' whatsoever, he didn't really possess any clothing that would have been appropriate for this sort of thing. The uniform was practical enough, served its purpose, and he really wasn't the type to buy something 'special' just in case, especially since the last few memories pertained to events he would rather forget. Ultimately, he did feel somewhat bad for not even considering new caps or anything like that; He didn't want Misato to get the impression that he was ungrateful or didn't appreciate this sort of activity. He couldn't really say if he did. His feelings at the moment were generally positive, but to answer that question with a 'yes' felt like a commitment that extended to other possible circumstances, or might lead her to _do_ things or supposed favors outside of his control.

For now, Misato appeared sufficiently pleased with what he _did_ say, for she seemed to have been waiting for that exact question and winked at him with a conspirator grin as soon as he had voiced it, her answer consisting of a pointed finger directed at the sea beyond the window: "We'll be going on a little cruise through the pacific on one of these little boats!"

The boy's expression's soon betrayed that the 'little boats' were anything but what that description might lead one to expect, but this was perfectly alright with Kensuke, who immediately pointed his camera at them and proceeded to display his encyclopedic knowledge about military vehicles of any kind: "WOW! Five aircraft carriers and four destroyers! It's a full-fledged battle fleet! Oh, thank you for bringing us along! Now _that's _what I call true friendship!"

"These are supposed to be the 'little boats'?" Touji asked, distinctly less impressed. By contrast, Kensuke's amazement grew all the more: "I can hardly believe it! See that ginormous one in the middle? That's the 'Over the Rainbow', the proud flagship of the UN fleet!"

"It's pretty huge." Shinji commented, not completely unimpressed.

"It's also practically a museum piece. I wonder how such an obsolete ship can even stay afloat."

"That's precisely the most awesome thing about it!" Kensuke gushed. "That's still real vintage work from before Second Impact! And we really get to see it up-close? Incredible!"

While Kensuke was so exited that he probably would have chewed off the entirety of his nails including his fingertips if he hadn't still needed them to hold his camera, the ship's bridge was far from teeming with elation about the helicopter's arrival.

An older man in uniform, marked by his insignias as an Admiral and thereby the commanding officer of the fleet, observed the vehicle's descent with the sourest contempt.

"...There goes the power plug for that children's toy we get to ferry across the landscape..."

But there was also someone else watching the helicopter land, observing from a banister on a heightened platform, wild tresses of hair swirling around in the sea breeze like dark extensions of the solar corona above...

* * *

><p>Yet unaware of the imminent danger, Shinji and his friends unsuspectingly disembarked from their helicopter.<p>

"Ooooh! Incredible! Incredible! Incredible! In-cre-di-ble! Oh the _joy_~~"

At the sight of all the war planes, ships, antennas and satellite dishes, Kensuke seemed dangerously close to a moderate seizure and continued his camera-toting dance of joy right past the somewhat nonplussed soldiers, closely followed by Touji's prized cap which had taken advantage of the not particularly gentle onslaught of the wind to take flight, prompting its owner to chase after it in a distinctive panic.

Behind them followed a comparatively calm Shinji who was more concerned with leisurely stretching out his arms after the long ride in the cramped cabin, and of course, Misato as well.

Meanwhile, Touji's cap had caught up to Kensuke and in fact, taken the lead, much to its owner's chagrin – given that they were currently on a ship, his fears that that his new accessorize might end up sinking into the ruby waters of the pacific were not exactly unmerited.

The tall boy desperately sprinted after his headgear, but despite his generally formidable athletic skills, it probably would have taken some sort of professional Olympian runner to match those merciless winds – but his hope flared up for a moment when he saw his base cap roll past a pair of slender feet in expensive, firetruck-red woman's shoes.

He didn't really know what this sort of footwear was doing on the ever-swaying deck of an aircraft carrier, but he was familiar with all those stories about women and their shoes. Some of them were fairly prone to have their common sense overruled by their vanity – actually, nearly all of them, except for rare exceptions like the bossy class representative, who in turn had her bossiness to compensate... most of the time.

In any case, he wouldn't be the one to complain as long as his cap was safe – but the initial relief that had begun to manifest on Touji's face met a grim end when the apparent savior of his cap revealed herself to be significantly less noble than the convenient placement of her feet would have him believe – To be fair, she did effectively keep the cap from being blown away again, but unfortunately, her preferred way of doing that was to generously stomp on it with her sinfully expensive name brand pumps.

And as expected from someone who was superficial enough to insist on this kind of footwear on the deck of a military vessel, she proved herself unfeeling enough to completely ignore Touji as he knelt down to pull his cap free, and instead took her sweet time to greet Misato who had since arrived with the other two boys in tow.

Within the first second of being acquainted with that person, Touji was decidedly certain that he could not stand her.

But Touji wasn't the only one on whom the girl left a swift and definite impression: Shinji, too, was examining the unfriendly stranger with wide open eyes.

In fact, she had been the very first thing his eyes had focused on upon reaching this place, she had completely taken over his field of vision the moment he spotted her, and indeed, he had to choice to look anywhere else, since the girl before him was pretty much _impossible_ to overlook – She was making personally sure of that.

Every tiniest tidbit of her appearance seemed deliberately crafted to irresistibly draw every pair of eyes whose gaze crossed her to where she stood, like a personified inward spiral inviting the eye to follow its lines to the center of the pattern: She stood there, with her legs spread apart and her hands on her hips, taking up as much room with her legs and elbows as she could without her pose seeming unnatural.

Her face was the worthy throne to self-assured smirk that informed everyone in her surroundings that they were being looked down on, regardless of how tall or important they might think they were. She adorned herself with a short, yellow sundress held by spaghetti straps, kept in the colors of the central star above, evoking the way it claimed the whole sky for itself each time it shone.

Besides her shoes, other garnishments to that picture involved a red wristwatch and a sky blue necklace.

The sum of her getup did not hide very much, but made what little it did conceal all the more titillating by keeping it just inches away from visibility – In general, the whole sight of her seemed intended as the worst possible torture a hormone-whacked teenager could experience, compiled by the skilled hands of an expert torture technician – and by that, Shinji didn't mean her expression's clear announcement that she knew just over 200 methods to make someone scream and was very much willing to use them.

Those were just an incidental supplement to a very different sort of weapons that were built right into her thoroughly perfect body and gave it its aura of irresistible attractiveness that made her shine like the afore-mentioned solar fire in Shinji's eyes.

But her beauty was not comparable to Misato's or Ayanami's; Misato's warm, playfully-provocative manner was too tangible and charmingly cozy to be labeled with a 'hard' word such as perfection, and Ayanami's perfection was the sort you might find in a moonlit greek statue, an ethereal, almost divine immaculateness; This young woman here was different. She, too, had something cold and unapproachable to her, but in a very different, profoundly _worldly_ way: Her kind of perfection was the one you could find on the covers of magazines, the impossible standard that was demanded of idol singers and actresses; The kind that most girls her age strained to reach with diets and make-up, but never quite reached.

She might as well have _been_ a model: Her sleek, athletic body had been rid of all imperfections by means of grueling hard work, with both these traits expressed as far as it was possible without slipping into an extreme that would no longer resemble traditional attractiveness.

Her breasts were even smaller than Ayanamis, more conical than rounded, but this exactly made them straddle this zone of not-quite-visibility despite the sparseness of her dress' yellow fabric.

It was like someone had described the global maximum of calculable beauty with a differential equation and then twisted the results into the shape of a girl of Shinji's approximate age group – There was nothing welcoming him to rest and lean onto her, nor any fragility as a toe point to apply protection.

Instead, she was a numbingly exotic, dominant presence that existed high above him even when they were standing on the same ground.

A _seductress. _

Exotic, in part, because she did have Japanese-looking features in her face, but quite obviously had some of her roots elsewhere: Her skin was, depending on which member of the newly arrived quartet you compared her with, distinctly to noticeably lighter, but still rosy, and her eyes were blue – This was probably the first time that Shinji saw someone who shared his, at least in his homeland, fairly rare eye color, although it was a far lighter, icier shade of a pale, barely-there color, indicative of the cold and rainy place her ancestors had come from.

If Shinji had to guess, he'd say she was part... middle-European, although he wasn't very sure, most of the Europeans he'd seen so far had been on the screen of his sensei's old TV. Tiny villages like the one he'd grown up in were seldom centers of cosmopolitanism.

Now, he'd known that the occasional European (or American descended from them) would come with very light, almost golden hair, but what this girl had naturally sprouting on her head was something else entirely: Long, straight, vigorous, shining, and red like polished copper metal. If nothing else, that alone made sure that this girl would stand out of every ever so large crowd.

There was something about the color red that made it different from all other color – It's a typical 'warning color', he once heard his teacher say when discussing some kind of poisonous frog or beetle. A _signal _to the world.

Or maybe it was because human blood was red, but somehow, any tiniest amount of the color would always stand out more than anything, no matter how chaotic the background; It attracted the eye if it as much as crossed its periphery.

There was always a particular air of eroticism around a woman in red – he already knew this from Misato.

But someone who had this red, this inexorable color of life as a permanent part of her own body that remained even when she was naked, that had this waterfall of red swinging after her with every step she took...

Shinji, who had always understood himself as someone inconspicuous and hesitant couldn't help but feel deeply intimidated by all that she was.

That was probably the reason why he didn't follow much after those passing thoughts that were telling him how impossibly familiar this new and foreign face seemed to be, or those implying a connection between her very conspicuous, obviously bright-red hair clips and the nerve clips on his very own EVA piloting interface headset.

He was far too busy marveling at her sheer existence.

"Hello, Misato!" She greeted leisurely, still adamantly refusing to remove her foot from Touji's cap, or to even acknowledge his existence with the slightest blink of her eyes.

"It's been a while! How have you been?"

"Oh, okay, as always." Misato assured, smiling as if oblivious to the spectacle below.

Quite bluntly, Shinji realized of all sudden that those two apparently knew each other from somewhere, and he didn't know a thing about it – This had to be yet another of these very significant details no one had ever bothered to tell him about.

Both females were talking to each other in suspiciously familiar tones: "Is it just me, or have you grown quite a bit taller?"

"And I've filled out, too!" the redhead boasted.

Only now did Misato decide to provide an explanation for this girl and what in heaven's name she was doing on an aircraft carrier: "May I introduce you? This is the Ace of the European Airforce: Captain Shikinami Asuka Langley, designated pilot of Evangelion Unit 02, our Second Child!"

That... explained a lot.

But either way, fate had not decided to be generous with our unfortunate little protagonist today: As soon as Misato had finished her explanation about the scantly-clad girl, another regrettable incident took pace.

As mentioned earlier, the flight deck was being incessantly whipped by a non-trivial amount of wind, but as much as the Second Child welcomed a moderate dose of dramatic sea breeze to accentuate her dramatic entrance, as it was customary for television-worthy badass heroes, the boundaries of what she was willing to tolerate were definitely overstepped when one bout of not-so 'gentle Zephyr' subjected her dress to the same treatment as Touji's cap.

Of course, miss Shikinami's dress was more limited in its freedom of movement, courtesy of two orderly little bows on its straps, but those didn't keep it's lower half from being blown to new heights and revealing her underpants – with the side effect that all three boys got treated to a generous view of said small piece of white cloth and its immediate surroundings.

Corporeal punishment followed on the spot.

**SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!**

A very unhappy-looking Shinji and one positively furious Touji were left with bright-red hand prints on their faces to confirm that the Second Child was indeed as unpleasant as their first impressions had led them to believe.

Even Kensuke, whose attention had been focussed on a warship _behind_ the terrifying girl an only turned in her direction by chance had not escaped a beating, although this only became apparent once he put down his camcorder. It was hard to ascertain whether his discouraged expression owed its existence to acute facial pain, or his grief over the now broken camera lens.

Touji however was significantly more hot-headed than both his friends, and demanded an explanation, since he hadn't exactly _asked_ for that stupid gust of wind, and certainly didn't have any desire to see her sleazy underwear: "What the hell was _that_ for?!"

"Viewing fee for the pretty panorama, of course. Do you think it's for free?" came the caustic reply. The lady was obviously quite sure of herself, not to say overtly swanky, and apparently not remotely interested in veiling her unfounded hostility.

Touji was distinctly pissed. Who did she think she was? She dressed like a bitch, acted like a bitch, and now, she even insisted on being paid like a bitch. And to boot, his cap was now lost for good, blown overboard when that crazy shrew stepped away from it to hand out her physical assaults.

"Well them, then I won't be stingy and show you my gratitude!" Touji retorted, now finally ready to explode, and swiftly proceeded to pull down his own pants, boxer shorts included – As he might have gathered from his friends' sighs as they averted their faces, this wasn't exactly the smartest of moves.

Misato found the juvenile swaggering faintly amusing.

After Touji's face was provided with a second hand print, Asuka marched past him like he was a zero on her left, and turned her attention towards what she considered points of _real_ relevance – First, her scrutinizing eyes searched her immediate surroundings for a girl her age, but they couldn't find any.

"What a surprise. Looks like the commander's little pet that gets to pilot unit zero didn't feel like gracing us lowly mortals with her presence." she scoffed. Only now did she deem the three boys worthy of getting reflected in her eyes again and probed each of them with an analytic glare.

They could practically feel how she glued the words 'clown', 'nerd' and 'loser' to their foreheads.

"And which of you three _jokes_ sucked up to daddy to get to play with Unit One?"

She pierced both his Shinji and Kensuke with her icy irises, but neither of them really dared to answer. Only now did she recall Touji's existence and turned to Misato in protest: "Please, don't tell me that _THIS_ idiot is the famous Third Child!"

"Don't worry. It's him. Over here."

Misato, who already seemed pretty used to the female EVA pilot's fierce temper, casually nodded her head in Shinji's direction, upon which he immediately wished he could disappear through the deck of the ship.

He really didn't know how to handle... this girl's very... _direct _personality, especially if she was saying... _these_ kinds of things... He'd have to properly _know_ his father, or at least talk to him on a regular basis, before he could even begin to think of 'sucking up' to him, and while he had no clue why _he_ of all people had been selected to pilot that stupid mecha thing, he certainly never _asked_ for it, nor was he all that thrilled about having to risk his life in fights against giant monsters that played with the factors in E= mc squared like they were lego bricks. In her defense, she had no way of knowing his circumstances, nonetheless, her words were hurtful – but she wasn't done in the least, oh no, she was was only just starting:

Shinji probably twitched in fear when she erected her full height directly before him and pointed her outstretched right arm and index finger straight at his chest.

Her first impression of him was anything but positive:

**"Say, are you an idiot?!"**

Shinji looked at her with big eyes, unable to formulate a reply.

He didn't claim to be any sort of genius, but...

"I've seen recordings of all your so-called 'battles'! Although I mistook them for some joke from the PR department at first. In all of my life, I've never seen an useless, cowardly _SLUMP_ of your caliber! It seems you're too idiotic to follow even the simplest of orders! It's hard to believe that the entire world, including my person, very nearly went down the drain several times over just because _you _were too busy shivering in fear! Last time was the worst, you even had to get your ass saved by a _girl!_"

Shinji looked back at her in unhappy silence.

He couldn't exactly deny her accusations, and the past battles certainly weren't anything he was _proud_ of or would let himself get cocky over, he got that beaten out of him pretty fast. But at least they had been something he could look back at as an adversity he had mastered, or at very least survived.

To hear all he had lived through in the last weeks reduced to such insufficiency was not pleasant... but on the other hand, he knew very well that he hadn't exactly smeared himself with glory – If he tried to apply objective reason to this, he could easily see how the effort that all this had cost him 'on the inside' could not be expected to count, least of all in the face of an imminent apocalypse.

This was a sobering experience.

But the Second Child didn't seem to feel like she had humiliated him quite enough: Without leaving him the time to even hang his head in shame, she kicked his legs off the ground from under him in the fraction of second, leaving Shinji spread over the ground after an unpleasant landing.

By the time he sat up again, she was already standing over him, practically pushing her skirt into his face, her hands at her hips, looking down at him with nothing but contempt.

"You're not even alert! How did a complete _weakling_ like you ever get chosen as an EVA pilot? It really IS just your father's influence..."

* * *

><p>To be honest, Misato probably would have been a whole lot more imposing if she hadn't scribbled over her age, weight and measurements on her security card. Not being visibly hungover on photo day might also have helped her case, and her extremely colorful company probably wasn't that productive in furthering any appearance of authority on her part: Touji was sneaking a 'discreet' glance at her butt, Kensuke went back to ecstatically filming everything ("A real man always carries a replacement lens!"), and then, there was Shinji, who was sticking close to Misato because he was somewhat afraid of having to stand next to the girl who had just wiped the floor with him.<p>

But they weren't the only reasons for the sour mood of the fleet's superior officer, who wasn't ashamed to show her just how unwelcome she was after returning her 'interesting' security card.

"Aha. I had mistaken you for some boy scout leader at first."

"Thank you for your warm and agreeable welcome." Misato replied poisedly, keeping up the superficial politeness with only a slight bit of amusement shining through, without ever making it less than obvious what she _actually_ meant to say.

"Yes. And thank you for bringing even more brats for us to babysit." The Admiral murmured, not hiding his vitriol at all.

As if on cue, one of the aforementioned 'brats' could be seen blissfully dancing across the background, waving around his camera like he was in some sort of otaku paradise.

"In any case, we are still grateful for your assistance in the transport of Unit Two." Misato pulled out a clipboard and removed several pages from it. "Here are the specifications for the EVA's power supply in case of an emergency activation."

The officers cast suspicious glares at the papers, and the Admiral, to whom they had been handed, didn't even bother skimming through them – His opinion had been firmly in place from the very beginning: "Like _hell_ will I let you activate that _plaything_ in the middle of the ocean!"

"As I said, it's only a precaution in case of emergency." Misato clarified. "The EVA is very precious, after all."

"So precious that they had to divert the entire pacific fleet for its protection? I'd like to know just when the UN forces became a delivery service!"

"I'd say that was when a certain organization was formed." the first officer opined, every bit as frank about his dissatisfaction as his superior had been. "Even you will have to admit that mobilizing the _entire fleet_ just to guard that plaything is hardly appropriate!"

"You're right. I would have preferred an additional squadron of aircraft." Misato countered with a smile, unfazed by the stream of provocations.

She pointed another stack of paperwork in the Admiral's general direction.

"Please sign these forms."

"Not yet." the officer sharply clarified.

This time, Misato _did_ require some effort to keep her features from twitching.

She could hardly believe her ears – First the Jet-Alone bastard, and now _this. _Did someone write 'please to your best to be an uncooperative jerk in my presence' on her forehead the last time she overdid the beer ever so slightly?

"The cargo, including its pilot, has been under our jurisdiction ever since we picked it up at the third branch in Germany, and as long as it stays that way, we will _not_ let you do whatever you please. You can count on that."

"And when do you intend to relinquish that jurisdiction?" Misato inquired.

"No sooner than we arrive at the port in Neo-Yokosuka. As long as we are at sea, you'll have to follow our orders!"

"I see." Misato affirmed, her smile not fading for as much as a single second. "But just in case, I'd like to remind you that I as a member of NERV am authorized to relieve you of your command in emergency situations."

Silence.

The only sounds that could be heard were the waves, and Kensuke's absent-minded gushing over the 'supermegacool' steering wheel as he once again frolicked straight across the scenery.

"Cool!" Touji commented, his reddened face betraying the less than safe-for-work thoughts that had accompanied his observation of Misato's well-practiced pokerface skills.

Even Shinji, who had grown quite desensitized to her 'coolness' due to frequent exposure to what she looked like when she climbed out bed in the morning, couldn't help but look impressed – Even the Second Child was looking in Misato's direction.

"She almost sounded like Ritsuko-san..." Shinji realized.

It seemed like absolutely nothing could possibly put a crack into that superior, professional smile of hers – except for that one single thing that had just entered the bridge and added a comment of their own: "Wow. You're as courteous as ever!"

All eyes darted to the bridge's secondary entrance.

The Second Child, in particular, instantaneously turned ninety degrees, although her entire demeanor kept spinning for yet another ninety: Of all sudden, she was blushing all over her uncannily kensuke-oid expression of utmost adoration, and excitedly waved in his direction like she was a little kid about to meet Santa Claus: "KAJI-SEMPAI!"

Half standing in a doorway that seemed far too small to him was a tall, broad-shouldered man whose name was ostensibly 'Kaji', who casually waved back and addressed them all with a nonchalant "Hi!".

He looked _exactly _how you would imagine someone whom even the Second Child would label as a worthy mate: Like some kind of intrepid movie hero.

He was roughly around Misato's age, wore his pants loose-fitting, his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the tie slightly loose, resulting in an overall 'look' that was surely stylish, but not bourgeois. He might as well have worn a T-shirt that said 'Hello, my name is Mr. Cool' – no, his current outfit probably got that message across way better than all T-shirts of this world could have managed, and he could as well have been dressed like a hobo and still steal the entire room's attention with a single wink, his debonair pose alone was enough to put James Bond himself to shame.

He was so ridiculously good-looking that he could drive people to suicide with his face, and in case there were any more doubts that this fellow was only inches away from dying of testosterone poisoning, they would have been extinguished by the mere mention of his classical action hero designer stubble – and yet, all that androgen didn't seem to have affected his full head of long, ash brown hair, which he obviously wore in one of the coolest hairstyles ever devised by man: A ponytail. A goddamned _ponytail_! Why did it have to be a ponytail?

All he was missing was a leather trench coat, those classical midnight sunglasses and a giant motorbike.

Some kind of primal instinct that had been lingering about in Shinji's DNA ever since his distant ancestors had been climbing around on trees in sunny Africa frantically declared some time of Alpha-Male-Alert, which once again reminded him what a complete and utter zero he must have been in the Second Child's eyes.

Shinji could have given up on life right here and now.

And to think that this day had started so nicely...

But Shinji wasn't the only one to feel somewhat irradiated by the unshaven gentleman's sudden arrival – the Admiral immediately began to bark out complaints and clarify that the resident James-Bond-ripoff had no place on the bridge.

Misato's reaction was also fairly enlightening – She didn't seem to be seeing this exemplary specimen for the first time, but certainly wished to have seen him for the _last_ time. Shinji wondered how many hitherto unknown acquaintances of Misato they were going to run into today, and whether all of them would be so brazenly _cool_.

As far as Misato herself was concerned, it was probably enough to state that her expression gradually transformed from the very image of abject shock to the physiognomic equivalent of a pleading "Oh no!".

Immediately, she ordered the supposed 'boy scouts' out of the room and then stormed off in an attempt to put as many meters between herself and this Kaji person as logistically possible, closely followed by Shinji (who was grateful for every centimeter between himself and all the crazy), Touji (who was not quite satisfied with the progression of the 'redevouz' so far) and Kensuke (whom they had needed to collect from a remote corner of the bridge and still kept filming everything).

Kaji himself also went for the exit with the Second Child following close behind, leaving only the officers to shake their heads in disbelief.

"And they really expect _this lot_ to be the saviors of humanity?" the Admiral complained.

The first officer sighed. "Times change. By the looks of it, the committee is putting all its hopes in that robot thing..."

"That children's toy?!" The Admiral glared out of the windows, toward another aircraft carrier where the Evangelion in question was being stored under a large, white tarpaulin. "_Our _budget gets cut all the time, and then, they throw all that money right out of the window for this kind of _nonsense!_"

* * *

><p>Unfortunately, Misato's wish to maximize the distance between herself and Kaji was not granted, much like the boys' desire to avoid any further encounters with the Second Child for the sake of their health – Instead, they ended up a lot closer than any of them was comfortable with. Almost as if fate had decided to step on their fingers in every way possible today, the only way down the the canteen turned out to be a single elevator, because the 'Over the rainbow' didn't happen to be 'a goddamn tourist canoe' as the Admiral had delicately put it. The plaque claiming that it was intended to carry eight people must have been referring to the lifting strength of the machines and not the cabin's dimensions, which were already decidedly... crammed after the insertion of six passengers, four of which weren't even fully grown, which was a <em>very<em> friendly euphemism for a state that was more comparable to that of the canned sardines that Shinji occasionally fed to his feathered flatmate.

Misato still made a honorable attempt to position herself was far from Kaji as the limited amount of space allowed and, for the time being, contented herself with glaring daggers at his painfully handsome visage. Touji had found himself unintentionally and quite unelegantly promoted to some kind of human sucker mouth fish when the resulting chaos pressed him against the glass doors, while the Second Child had claimed the corner next to Kaji and demonstratively refused to look at the other passengers in the lift, her chin turned upwards for emphasis.

Shinji had once again fallen victim to his uncanny ability to attract awkward situations like a magnet and magically draw ungodly amounts of naked female flesh and/or breasts, in this case, Misato's breast between which he was pretty much being smothered after a mutually unplanned, unintended contact. To their credit, they were nicely warm and soft, but still possessed a definite firmness like a brand new pillow, and Misato's personal scent could be sensed through the dress – The only reaction Shinji was capable of was a slight reddening of his cheeks.

Only Kensuke was apparently perfectly content with the corner he'd ended up in and happily filmed whatever there was to film in an elevator shaft.

But if the fates did insist on forcing her to waste her time being stuck with that brainless macho ape, Misato would take it upon herself to purge him of any illusions that she was doing so willingly:

"What in the world are you even doing here?" she demanded to know.

"I'm on a business trip to Japan and decided to accompany Asuka along the way." he explained, skillfully ignoring her hostile tone without ever dropping his charming smile, inadvertently staging some sort of ironic reversal of the earlier situation with the officers.

"I should have expected something like this..." Misato lamented.

As if to further the overall level of discomfort, a sway of the boat then happened to combine with the motion of the elevator in such an opportune manner that, as far as the inside of the lift was concerned, it resulted in both females loudly exclaiming the words "HEY! DON'T TOUCH ME!" to which the for once completely accidental 'perverts', more specifically, Touji and Kaji, responded by unanimously asseverating their innocence.

And since they were all leaning forward to make sure that their screeches would be hurting the other party's ears _properly_, poor Shinji found himself caught in the crossfire, squeezed even tighter into Misato's shapely chest. Despite his dubious fortune, the Third Child tried his best to keep his balance in order to avoid another debacle in the style of ill-fated visit to Ayanami, and, since he didn't have much in the terms of athletic skill or assertiveness, did little else aside from squeezing his eyes shut and hoping that he would be delivered from his... situation before he ended up squashed, suffocated or deaf from all the shouting, not to think of the possibility of a more... embarrassing reaction to his current... location. He counted himself lucky to have survived until the glass doors of the cramped elevator finally opened and allowed its passengers to stumble out with varying degrees of inelegance, although he did have to admit that he sort of missed the warmth of Misato's chest.

That Touji couldn't quite avoid an unintentional meeting with the ground (and promptly got himself titled as 'too stupid to walk' by a certain redhead) reminded him all too clearly how closely he might just have avoided a repetition of that unfortunate incident.

Once Misato had ensured they wouldn't kill each other on the spot, everyone involved moved on to the tables to have their lunch, where Touji and Kensuke displayed an impressive sprint in order to claim both seats next to Misato's – which she didn't mind in the slightest as long as it kept a certain stubble-faced individual away from her. To compensate, he placed himself straight _across_ from her, bridging the physical distance without invitation.

The more he leaned forward, propped up by his strong, masculine arms, the more Misato recoiled, retreating back into her chair. The Second Child immediately seized the seat next to Kaji, leaving Shinji no choice but to place himself next to her, as carefully as he could muster and, obviously, leaving a wide safety margin.

Lucky for him, she was all too busy eying the exchange between Kaji and Misato with suspicious, displeased eyes to bother taking note of his presence. Touji, too, gave off the impression that his mood would have been brighter if he and Kensuke had their 'sweetheart' to themselves.

"Well?" Kaji asked, utilizing a tone that should have been reserved for a close associate, concealing his true feelings behind his charming smile. "Are you seeing anyone?"

Misato vehemently refused to look at his face – apparently, she was trying her best to make him understand that she wasn't the slightest bit interested in her advances, and appreciated them as much as a bullet to the chest. Was he some sort of... Stalker, or unwanted Admirer of Misato's?

Shinji wished he could claim to have adequate knowledge of Misato's life – Sure, they had reached a point where they would easily act relatively natural around each other, or as close to 'natural' as either of them ever got, anyways, but all she'd ever told him about her life before his arrival was that she had only just moved in herself at that time. By now, he had been able to gather that she probably used to work in Germany before that, given that she knew the Second Child, but didn't seem to have seen her in a while.

"I don't know how this is any of your business!" she brusquely answered.

"That hurts. For real."

Kaji shifted himself into a somewhat less pushy posture, perhaps feeling a genuine sense of defeat somewhere behind the aura of coolness that he didn't dispel even now.

Neither Touji nor the Second Child seemed particularly happy about the coloration in his tone of voice.

All the while, Shinji pondered what their exact connection might be. Stalker, admirer, or perhaps old friend who has never quite understood that it was all platonic on her side?

Possibly a meddlesome ex-boyfriend?

Whatever his past with Misato may be, he proceeded to take a sip from his coffee cup with a marked pretense of huffiness, before turning towards the other occupants of the bench he sat on. This, of course, caused the terrifying girl's face to light up for a moment, in hopes that he might finally be turning his attention back to her – but the sweet reality was that he was looking past her to face Shinji of all people. "...I've heard you have been living with Katsuragi. Is that so?" he asked in his typical, exuberant ways.

"Y-Yes." Shinji confirmed as polite and friendly as his shyness allowed. This man, too, seemed to have a very... direct way of speaking to people, but since he hadn't beaten Shinji up yet (unlike a certain other person who seemed to consider it a normal way of greeting people), he was glad to take this as a sign of mercy and kindness.

Mostly, he was a bit impressed with his ability to act this laid-back in rooms full of rather explosive people, and wished he could be more like that himself. If he was more like Kaji, he might have a much easier time talking to Ayanami. If your level of sheer coolness was sufficient to not only tame ferocious beasts such as the Second Child, but have them fall to your feet, wining the affections of a comparatively harmless, nice girl should be a peace of cake...

Too bad that nothing about Shinji could ever justify such confidence.

He couldn't even fathom how Touji and Kensuke had ever arrived at the conclusion that he was 'popular with the girls' – Now _this_ was the living image of a glorious Don Juan, this Kaji person or whatever he was called, with his masculine facial stubble, his sly grin, that playful glint in his endless dark eyes and the brashness of his conspiratorial purr: "You must know, I'm an old friend of hers... So, tell me... does she still toss around in bed and leave her sheets in a mess?"

An ex-boyfriend.

_Definitely_ an ex-boyfriend.

The mildly traumatized visages of everyone involved were very much worthy of Homeric laughter; Most were aimlessly gesticulating with their arms, the Second Child, in particular, seemed to have frozen into a statue, and Misato nearly fell out of her chair.

"In... In bed?" Kensuke repeated with notably reddened cheeks.

Shinji, too, was rather... impressed, not necessarily in a positive way. No matter how much of a 'baby' his friends might consider him to be, that particular... allusion... did not go over his head, although he could just as plausibly be talking about the sphere of disarray that tended to percolate her room from her bed outwards. Shinji certainly _hoped_ that this was what he meant, because, if he meant the other thing-

"WHAT ARE YOU IMPLYING THERE?!" Misato bellowed angrily after she had managed to snap out of her initial stupor, punctuating her words by slamming her first on the table and, in the process, sending her coffee cup on a short flight that nonetheless caused a sizable stain in the tablecloth.

"I see! So she hasn't changed at all! Right, Ikari Shinji-kun?"

The older man deviously winked at the boy.

Misato's expression progressively transformed into a proof of utter desperation.

"Ehh..." Shinji began, leaning forward to look past the still-frozen Second Child. "I'm surprised that you know my name..."

Kaji found that question rather curious and playfully brandished his index finger. "Why so humble? It shouldn't be surprising, considering that you're pretty much a celebrity in our circles."

It was the word 'celebrity' that roused the Second Child from her salt-pillar-like state. Because her head was turned towards Kaji, Shinji couldn't really make out her expression. Meanwhile, Kaji continued to elaborate: "You are the only one who ever succeeded in moving an EVA without any kind of prior training. The famed Third Child."

Kaji raised two more fingers to allude to the boy's numeric designation - "I... I just got lucky..." Shinji managed to produce, twirling his fingers to soothe a his self-consciousness.

He didn't really know what to do with this kind of praise, and neither did he feel like he really deserved it, given that he didn't have the slightest clue what exactly had made the EVA react to him.

Still, it _was_ nice to get a little acknowledgment in return for his suffering, especially from an older, wiser, more experienced man... Some of his less pleasant experiences had been hard to even process, so it was certainly motivating to hear this, especially after having his admittedly meager, but hard won achievements stomped into the dirt by his new coworker.

For Shinji, this was yet another experience he never knew before – If... if someone like Kaji was saying this, it probably _meant_ something. He looked like the sort of person who would... know what they were talking about. Shinji guessed that it was another confirmation that he wasn't alone, that the whole organization was working on this and that his contributions _mattered_ to them.

He wondered if it would feel somewhat like this if his father were to praise him, perhaps it would be like this experience, except much amplified by his long, long wait for the words in question.

"Luck is part of your destiny!" Kaji explained just as he was about to rise from his seat. "This sort of thing is commonly called _talent_. It's an asset like any other."

...talent?

"Well then, see you around!"

This was new, too.

Despite all the unpleasant events that has marred this day so far, Shinji was beginning to feel that his anticipation hadn't been completely in vain. He didn't think he'd ever looked himself that way, or noticed anything particularly special, much less anything that could be referred to as _talent_. So far, he'd been convinced that he was thoroughly unremarkable if not inept in all skills one could think of, and to be honest, he still didn't consider his battle skills an exception, but if there were people who were... satisfied with his results, then having ruined his chances with a girl who was going to become a comrade of his. So what if she had her opinion stiffly formed before she ever saw his face? It wasn't just Kaji who thought he was making valuable contributions, either. Misato and his friends had also showed him that they thought he could pull this off. The opinion of an experienced adult spectator and the people he cared about should be weighed higher than that of some obviously overconfident, unlikeable stranger, right?

Although he still didn't feel completely at peace with just _ignoring_ the opinion of someone he'd be working with on a regular basis, even if he _had _only just met her.

Regardless, he did try to bid his farewell with a genuine, if tentative smile.

Then again, that made him just about the only person in the room (apart from Kaji himself, who was already halfway out the door) who looked anything close to pleased – Touji and Kensuke were still recovering from the initial shock, the Second Child, who followed her older companion straight on cue, demonstratively averted her eyes from the rest of the lot, except for Shinji, at whom she had been glaring daggers ever since he had somehow drawn the attention of the object of her affections, which was apparently tantamount to some kind of capital offense in her book, and Misato had supported her head with her elbows and clawed her fingers into her hair, complete with mumbled pleas for all of this to turn out to be some kind of prank or nightmare.

* * *

><p>"So? What do you think of Ikari Shinji-kun?"<p>

"Booooring!" the girl replied as she absent-mindedly played around on the ship's outer guardrail, almost mildly indignant. "...I can't believe they chose such a disappointing loser to be the Third Child..."

"Don't judge a book by it's cover." Kaji advised. "After all, he single-handedly killed two angels, and not only that, when confronted with sudden combat with no previous training, he immediately reached a synchronization rate of over 40%!"

"I-Impossible!" the young redhead exclaimed, staring at Kaji with wide, shocked eyes.

Not even she... could have pulled this off. She had been certain that she had nothing to fear when she saw what kind of _wimp_ the supposed famous Third Child had turned out to be, but what if he was not nearly as harmless as he looked?

Just now, she had been disappointed that she wouldn't get the chance to best a proper rival, but now... No. The Second Child refused to classify that idiot as a potential thread just because he'd had a little bit of beginner's luck – His oh so extraordinary synch rate was still miles below hers, and the brat himself was positively _useless. _

Hell would freeze over sooner than that weakling would stand any chance at getting in her way, and she felt a spontaneous surging of a need to make this v_ery clear_ to him – if not for anything else, then to make Kaji notice her and t show her that this supposed 'natural' he was trying to pair her off with was _way_ below her league.

Blowing her older companion a kiss as she departed, she stormed off to show that pathetic amateur just _who_ he'd picked a fight with.

* * *

><p>In the meantime, Misato, whose mood was greatly improved by Kaji's absence, was currently riding an escalator towards the surface of the ship since Kensuke had decided that there was something on the portside that he really wanted to film.<p>

The Third Child seemed similarly relieved to be away from his fellow pilot and stuck close to Misato, while his two friends were standing a little further down.

"Oh dear, that Admiral big shot was pretty sure of himself!" the tanned, tracksuit-wearing teen complained, in part for the purpose of actual venting, but also with the thought of scoring a few extra points with Misato.

"A massive ego is almost a necessary job requirement in his line of work" she answered, her amused smile nourished as much by the subject of their conversation as by the boys themselves. "Just try not to take him too seriously."

"The other one wasn't too humble either." Shinji commented, more good-natured than seriously irked. "I mean Kaji-san."

"Oh yes!" Misato retorted, with significantly more of a deprecatory edge to her voice. "He always insisted on making a complete _joke _of himself_. _That _idiot!_"

This wasn't exactly what Shinji had meant, but since she obviously didn't seem inclined to talk about him, he decided to stick with that answer.

But then, the universe seemed to remember that the event of Ikari Shinji being pleased and content for more than a few minutes was supposed to violate some yet unknown natural law, and scrambled to ensure that it wasn't caught slacking off, which it did by rapidly throwing some more trouble his way, and having it loudly announce its presence to secure his attention: "Hey, Third Child!"

Looking up in bewilderment, he followed the escalator to its end, where he was awaited by a red-hired girl in a short yellow dress that bared much of her long, athletic legs that seemed to have been drawn by a skilled artist in an attempt to create something that would mock this flawed world with its unattainable perfection.

"Come with me!" She demanded, her body language making it clear that she wouldn't accept any 'Nos' or 'buts'.

Before he'd even reached the end of the escalator, she firmly grabbed Shinji by the wrist and dragged him after her.

Their path led them to a small, lifeboat-like vehicle that she somehow knew how to operate without the slightest delays, and with it, all the way across to one of the other ships, on which a large, pavilion of white tarpaulin could be made out from afar – and Shinji already suspected what must have been hiding beneath it, even though he would have preferred it greatly if he wouldn't have been struggling to catch his breath by the time they reached the boat, feeling pushed to the limit just from keeping up to the headstrong girl's steadfast pace, and really wishing the were a lot more firm and stable structures separating him from the poisonous red waters.

It was pretty much beyond him what was currently driving this girl or what she planned to do, or why she didn't just avoid him if she so obviously couldn't stand him. Why would anyone go out of their way just to bring further unpleasantness upon themselves and others? Shinji couldn't claim to be a particularly passionate person, so he couldn't say he understood, but after seeing this girl in action, he was no longer all that sure that this would be a desirable thing.

Either way, the self-proclaimed warrior girl ultimately led him to the other ship's deck, where she boldly gripped the tarpaulin and revealed the cargo beneath to the light of the day.

What could she possibly be expecting him to say, in regards to something like this?

"Nice color." Shinji remarked when he couldn't think of anything better. "I didn't know that EVA 02 was bright red."

The varnish on the armor plates was indeed of a very intense, conspicuous color that could reliably be expected to draw all eyes to itself. At this point, it was impossible to miss that this must have been her favorite color, in case the watch, the shoes and the interface clips didn't make it sufficiently obvious. Personally, he'd always been reluctant with such strong, bright colors – he didn't necessarily dislike them, but he'd feel uncomfortable if he were wearing seething that was likely to draw attention, that stood out, yes, provoked a reaction. He preferred to stay quietly in the background and have his peace, but it hadn't taken him long to notice that his new co-worker was his exact opposite in that respect, although he supposed that it would have be easier to name the ways in which they _didn't_ seem to be as different from each other was the hot, sunny daylight was from the cold darkness of the starry night.

He supposed that there was a certain praiseworthy aspect to that, as well, that endless, unstoppable drive she seemed to possess, how she always went straight for what she wanted. He did not have this capacity; On his worse days, he could hardly summon up the energy to do anything at all, even when he knew he should. In a way, it reminded him of Misato's and Ayanami's determined refusal to let any unpleasant feeling or physical barrier get in the way of what they were convinced needed to be done – although this was probably the only thing the three of them had in common. Or maybe they were just normal, and he was different in that he was a coward.

Either way, the brash young pilot seemed pretty insistent on making him take a closer look of her firecar-red Evangelion, and admonished him for wasting her precious time.

The Evangelion was being transported on its 'belly', with its head turned on the side and catwalks consisting of plastic plates affixed to a row of plastic barrels forming paths across the basin of purple coolant it was half submerged in.

Unlike the Units Zero and One, EVA 02 possessed a total of four eyes that were furnished with green lenses, and two orange, horn-like protuberances on the crown of its head, which gave it the vaguely demonic appearance that seemed to be typical for the bio-mechanical god-machines.

The slender girl's sudden, unannounced and completely dauntless leaps from one part of her red giant to the next seemed no less superhuman, given that she seemingly reached its tip on its back in a few casual, practiced motions and only turned back down to stare at Shinji from up above – Apparently, she really enjoyed looking down at people.

But where others may have been preoccupied with feeling insulted, Shinji couldn't hold back a certain sense of awe.

She hadn't expected this kind of stunt and nearly tumbled off the barrel-bridge himself between the kinetic energy left behind by her jump and his own disbelief, and had stuttered something about how she should be careful while she proudly displayed either the athletic achievements of military training to which her deceptively slim body owed both its trim figure and its exceptional physical prowess and catapulted herself to building-like heights with only the force of her strong limbs, chiding him for expecting that 'everyone else would be as much of a wimp' as he was, especially considering that she'd had varied combat training.

But once she had taken her beloved place on the summit, she was wholly occupied with the very reason she had come her: Her Evangelion.

"The color isn't the only thing that is different about Unit Two! The Units one and Zero were still part of the development process, a prototype and a test model – That they could be synchronized with a complete newbie is the best proof!"

So she was right back to trivializing each and every of his achievements – had she honestly dragged him all the way here just to scoff at him?

Perplexed, Shinji looked up to her and wondered what exactly she might be expecting of her, and what he'd ever done to her to warrant this.

"But Unit Two is different!" its designated pilot continued, performing a wide, sweeping motion with her right arm like a saleswoman pitching her product.

"You could say that my model is the first _proper_ Evangelion, the final, full-fledged result of the program!"

Just as the Second Child was done gloating about her EVA, the entire ship was shaken up by a jolt of considerable strength which sent the surface of the coolant basin into motion. While Shinji had to trouble to maintain his balance on the swaying, floating bridge, the girl before him easily remained upright, never mind that she was standing high on the inclined surface of a red giant that was never intended to be walked on.

"What happened?" He asked in confusion, and the answer, too, assured him that he was in fact dealing with an implacable professional that he hardly compared to: "Underwater shock waves!" she immediately recognized. "There must have been an explosion nearby!"

* * *

><p>Immediately, Asuka descended with a swift chain of jumps, just as fearless and elegant as on her way up, and rushed right past Shinji to get to get outside, her bragging quickly forgotten once a potential serious situation presented itself – But Shinji's expression was just as severe, his mind racing behind a mask of forced stoicism – An explosion, in the middle of the ocean. And there was an Evangelion present on this ship. He knew full-well what this could mean, and hoped from the bottom of his heard that he was mistaken, but the very real possibility of an... angel attack was nothing he could afford to ignore.<p>

It had been roughly a week since the last one, so the next one could very much be due already, which meant that all the hopes, expectations and the hard work of thousands of people, including the few that were particularly dear to him, were now at stake once again, along with the life and fate of humanity and every single living thing on this planet.

Shinji took a brief moment to order his thoughts and pull himself into a manageable state and repeat the many, many reasons why running away was not an option to himself in his thoughts, then he rushed after Asuka, who had already reached the guardrails and leant past them to spot the source of the disturbance.

Her trained eyes searched the agitated waves for the reason they existed.

Shinji, too, soon arrived beside her and concluded that his fears had come true: "This is..."

Before their very eyes, one of the other aircraft carriers went up in flames, leaving behind a gigantic, cross-shaped pillar of light that was accompanied by by strangely colored, approximately mauve vapors. Something undefined was shooting through the red waters like a torpedo, fast enough to leave torrents of foam in its wake, and it was picking off the ships one by one, blowing them up before they had any chance to pose the slightest bit of resistance.

There was no more room for doubt.

"It's an angel!" Shinji concluded. "It _must_ be!"

"W-What? A _real_ one?"

In that instant, the entire illusion of competence was gone from her face, and Shinji was brought face to face with the realization that, despite all of her adulation and talk of her supposed exquisite military training, this girl had never seen combat before.

If anyone was the 'expert' in this situation, it would have to be _him_.

And that wasn't a thought he found particularly comforting – she was right as far as his own lack of professionalism was concerned – but currently lacked the time and resources to change that. If they wanted to save this world, they would have to act fast – But _how?_ They were currently faraway from headquarters, and Unit One, unfortunately, _wasn't_.

"We need... We have to get back to Misato-san and _do_ something!" he quickly scrambled together, for the sake of having, at least, _some_ kind of coherent goal or plan that had chances of working, even if it might not be the best or smartest.

But the girl at his side, who had since gotten past her initial disbelief and stuffed it away behind the wide, sneaky grin of a predator that had glimpsed its chance to strike, had already concocted a plan of her own: "...I think we can dispense with finding Misato."

* * *

><p>(1) Chapter Title is an allusion to the Bleach manga volume titled 'Quincy Archer hates you'.<p>

(2) I'm going with 'Shikinami' here because I had to pick one, and I just think it sounds cooler. Also, since this has Mari in it, the Theme Naming is a definite feature. This is not a statement about which scenes to expect or not to expect.

(3) It is easy to forget that for an episode and a half, Shinji & Asuka shared some very reciprocated, very straightforward antagonism, before the more familiar dynamic fully set in... Stuff written from Shinji's perspective is meant to reflect that here a little, hence the depreciating tone at times.

(4) "Leatha" comes from some biblical phrase but is also a somewhat archaic female first name. I've heard somewhere that 49 is assigned the value/meaning of 'Unification', although it's mostly just a number I consistently have a thing with. If you were to buy my novel, you'd notice 49 all over it. Seven times seven and my second grade teacher's ramblings about remembering square numbers? Ritsuko isn't building anything pretty, but it'll be a while until we see just what. 'Kronos' probably doesn't need 'splanations. The titan king who ate his kids until little Zeus escaped him? Sometimes associated with/discribed as 'the ever-greedy past that selfishly devours the present', but also a more ambiguous figure once you look at certain details... Doesn't that sound a lot like Gendo? In-universe, he's probably picking it as a reference to weeding out one more potential threats to his 'rule' over instrumentality, just like Kronos munched down on potential usurpers. This has gotten retroactively awesomer since Q established a 'king' motif around our dear Commander, and made ReiQ, who was working for him at the time, wield a Scythe (Kronos'/Saturnus' trademark weapon) although he was always a garbled version of the 'castle lord', stripped or warped in the paternal implications of the archetype. The Motif of 'Titans' in its laters Renaissance/Humanist or Strum and Drang interpretation was also associated with resisting possibly divine, overwhelming forces, sort of welded with the Lucifer rebellion of 'pride', not necessarily for good, not quite in the original "Chaos vs Order"/"Harmony vs Discipline" way either, fits very well with Gendo's rebellion against SEELE in his more heroic functions that would be too squeezed in a simple good vs evil narrative. Older/original traditions always had the Titans have an unique connection to humanity; In some, they made us or brought us a Golden Age, in others, like the Orphean version, our evil comes from them, but we also have a speck of godliness in us, which suited Shinji's conflicted feelings about his parentage, or at least the incomplete version of the story he knows, of being the "Mad scientist's kid." Like Shinji, the Titans, or at least some of them were also associated with the stars, (through their association with time) and of course, Shinji also has moments where he is rebellious and "titanlike" towards Gendo, so you have the ironies, generations (and outer planets) lined up. To make a long story short, the motif made a lot of sense to me for various reasons and will be continued throughout the fic, hopefully not too hamfistedly, because I always liked it.

(5) As for the descriptions of Asuka and the contrast with Misato/Rei, I was going for a 'judgement of Paris' type of contrast of different appeals and the things they stand for, not any obvious marking of anyone as 'better'. If it came off that way, I've screwed up. I don't think 'worldly' needs to be a pejorative adjective, and it suits Asuka well, for worse, but also for better. Also in the sense that she is at least, always distinctly human, although Shinji hasn't realized this yet. But Sadamoto himself also described her, as far as her superficial first-glance appearance goes, the 'teen idol' of the EVA world. But there is also something potentially self-destructive about this kind of culture/aesthetic which is very... suitable, considering that she ends up starving herself in ep 24. But keep in mind that Shinji is supposed to be, and will keep on being, subtly misunderstanding her. He's pegging her for more of an Aphrodite, for a colder, negative interpretation of her, but any superficiality or seductiveness only ever goes skin-deep with Asuka, she's probably more of a less matronly Hera, a symbol for coexistence despite difficulty and conflict. Asuka's ideal place would not be above, but besides you. 'Seductress', even if it's a misnomer on Shinji's part here, needn't be negative in every context either; It's an experience you can have, not a type of person. But Shinji isn't quite over an innocent/simplifying drive to compartmentalize here. It's less a flaw he has than a lesson he hasn't learnt yet. Also, a certain repetitiveness/evocation between her initial description here and in the last dream sequence is fully intended. Making you feel Shinji's sense of déjà-vu, or something like that. Also, the solar motif! That was important to me, too. Rei = Moon and Misato = Earth meets Asuka = Sun. (Shinji = Stars wasn't a thing back when I wrote this... Neither did I know about that Nordic warrior sun-goddess. I would have done something with that if I had known. Yeah, basically, let's get in some more gratuitous mythological motifs besides just the Judeo-Christian ones, basically. )

(6) On the subject of the military ranks... you just wait.

(7) All that aside/clarified, I admit that Asuka is simply a character that I have less of a 'feeling' for/grasp on than, say, Shinji or Rei. The last thing I want to do is to get her wrong or give her a skewed portrayal just because she isn't my favorite character. If I fuck up (particularly in scenes that do/will feature her _own_ PoV), please tell me so.

(8) I deliberately chose not to render Asuka's infamous line with the exact phrasing of 'What are you, stupid' to dillute fond reactions to a familiar cutesy catchphrases, because, words mean things, and especially here at the beginning, it wouldn't symbolize a relationship yet. In the German version, I tried to accomplish this by using 'bescheuert' instead of the more common 'doof' or the 'blöd' the dub used, basically an equally colloquial synonym.

(9) Onwards, Baka! To the Asukamobile! For truth, justice, and the Tsundere way! This fanfic will be continued in chapter 02: [ASUKA STRIKES]. Because nothing says 'heroic' like your name in ALL CAPS!


End file.
